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My Life is You Ch. 01

By: mypussyandyours



Dillon turned and waved one last time before taking Brad’s hand and following him out to the car. The sound of music and laughter faded as Jeremy closed the front door behind them.

Giving a jaw-popping yawn, Dillon smiled. "I am pooped, baby," he said to Brad. "It was a great party, but I’m just not as young as I used to be."

Brad brought Dillon’s fingers to his mouth and kissed them. "It’s a good thing that you’re staying at my place tonight, then," he commented as he unlocked the car doors. "It’s only a twenty minute drive compared to the hour it would take you to get home."

After helping Dillon into the car and pecking him on the lips, Brad jogged around the front of the car and slid behind the wheel. Tuning the radio to a station playing soft, soothing music, he rubbed his fingers against Dillon’s jaw. "I’ll have you home soon, baby, and then you can get a good night’s sleep."

Dillon smiled and reclined his seat back so that the seatbelt barely touched his body. His eyes drifted closed and he was lightly sleeping before Brad had even pulled out of Jeremy’s driveway.

Dillon felt as though his head was going to explode. He didn’t remember having all that much to drink at Jeremy’s house warming party, but his head had never ached this much. In fact, his whole body ached. He seemed to be one big, red-hot nerve, pulsing and throbbing in pain.

He sucked in a breath, trying to control the need to cry out against the pain. Suddenly, he heard someone moving around. Soft-soled shoes squeaked as they passed over an unseen floor and then Dillon felt a presence leaning over him. He struggled to open his eyes, but for some reason seemed to be unable to do so.

"Well, well, well," a tender voice said, "Welcome back to the world of the living Dillon Marshall." A hand stroked his hair back then moved down his arm. "I imagine you’re in quite a bit of pain. I’ll get a doctor in here and we’ll see what we can do about that. It’s a good thing you waited until I was making my rounds to wake up."

Once again Dillon heard the squeak of unseen shoes. He wanted to protest, to beg the person not to leave him. But for some reason his mouth was too dry to form words. 

Nothing made sense. What had she meant about a doctor? Was he in a hospital? He’d never been hospitalized for a hangover before. Why on earth would they do so now?

This time he heard multiple pairs of feet entering the room. Someone moved to the foot of the bed and he heard a jangling noise and then some papers being flipped.

"I’m glad to see you’ve decided to join us Mr. Marshall," another female voice, this one sounding older, said. "We were beginning to worry that you didn’t like us."

Once again Dillon struggled to speak. He wanted to ask so many questions. Who were they? How did they know him? Why was he in so much pain? Why couldn’t he open his eyes? But while his mouth opened and closed, he was unable to force any sound out.

"Tina, I think our young friend here needs some ice chips," the older voice said. "He’s bound to be thirsty after so long a time without anything to drink."

"I’ll get some right away, Dr. Morgan," the kind voice said. Then, her footsteps retreated again.

"Now, I’ve worked with lots of patients as they come out of comas," Dr. Morgan spoke. "I’m pretty sure you have lots of questions going through your head. Let me see if I can answer most of them for you."

A coma? He had been in a COMA? He couldn’t have been!

"You’ve been with us just over two weeks now," Dr. Morgan continued, seemingly unaware of Dillon’s panic. "You were in a car accident, but we got to you in time. It’s a good thing, because you were pretty bad when you came in. I’m not going to sugarcoat things. I don’t see it doing you any good.

"Your right knee was crushed. We’ve done reconstructive surgery and after some hard work, you will walk again. It’s going to take time, but we have some amazing surgeons here at Crestwick Sinai.

"Your right arm is also broken in two places, but they were clean breaks and give every indication that they will heal fine. You’ll also have to work to regain some of the strength in that arm, but if you played tennis before, we’ll make sure you do again.

"The real challenge was your eyes." This statement was followed by a sigh.

His eyes. He couldn’t open them. The world was dark. It had been bad enough when she’d been listing off his other injuries. Then, she had just sounded matter-of-fact. Now, though, there was something else in her voice.

"The car you were in was badly damaged by the force of the impact. The steel cage crumpled, striking you on the back of your head, causing a severe concussion and damage to your Occipital Lobe. I don’t know how much you know about the brain, but the Occipital Lobe is responsible for the interpretation of what you see. Right now, CAT scans and MRIs show massive swelling and bruising in the region.

"That would be enough to concern us, but you also got glass in your eyes. Slivers penetrated right through your eyelids in order to pierce the eyes themselves. We dug out all that we could fine, but your corneas are severely scarred."

Dillon felt like he couldn’t breathe. What was she telling him? Was she saying he was blind? She couldn’t be saying that! There was just no way that could be true!

"We do have a small bit of hope. There is a chance that when the swelling goes down and the bruising subsides, your brain will have healed enough to process whatever input your eyes supply. However, they’re not going to be giving much. In other words, Mr. Marshall, the most you can hope for is to be able to distinguish when large objects are in the way, even while you won’t know what they are."

My Life is You Ch. 02



Dillon heard a knock on the hospital room and out of habit turned his head. He didn’t see a thing. Of course he didn’t. He was blind. But the automatic response was still there. Someone knocked, you turned to see who it was.

The person at the door nervously cleared his throat. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. Dillon already knew who it was. Brad was here.

It had been a week since Dillon had awoken from his coma. Each day he had hoped that Brad would arrive. Each day, he was too scared to ask where Brad was. The dread that Brad had died in the accident was too awful. Dillon hadn’t wanted to risk finding out it was true, so he had never asked.

Now, though, Brad was here! He was alive! Dillon didn’t care where he had been. After all, he had been so badly injured, surely Brad had spent his own time in the hospital. This could very well be the first day that Brad was well enough to come see him.

Feeling a now unfamiliar smile curve his lips, Dillon spoke. "Brad, oh Brad, you’re alright!" He held out his left arm, his right still strapped to his side.

"Hello Dillon," Brad said with a tremor in his voice as he walked forward.

Dillon expected to feel Brad’s hand in his, Brad’s lips on his. Instead, Brad placed something wrapped in his outstretched hand.

"I didn’t bring flowers," Brad rushed to say. "I wasn’t sure if you would want them since you can’t, well, you know."

There was an awkward silence. Dillon would have loved anything Brad had brought him. If Brad had arrived with flowers, than Dillon would have thought of him every time he smelled them.

"Go ahead, open it," Brad urged after a tense moment. "I hope you like it. It was the only thing I could really think of."

"Whatever it is, I’m sure I’ll love it," Dillon responded. He awkwardly reached out and placed the package on the table suspended over the bed. Next, he tore into the paper, getting frustrated as the box scooted out of reach time and again.

Brad never offered to help. Instead, he just stood there, saying nothing.

Finally, the wrapping was off the box. Dillon felt around until he found the flap and pried it open. He spilled the contents onto the table.

"Careful!" Brad exclaimed. "You don’t want to break it."

"Ok, I won’t break it," Dillon responded. "What is it?"

Brad gave off a nervous laugh. "It’s a tape recorder. I also have five books on tape for you. I know what a book worm you are and that you were really getting into those medical thrillers, so I thought you might like to have them to listen to while you’re here."

"That’s great," Dillon said, smiling. "Of course, I won’t have much time to listen to them now that you’re better. All my available hours are going to be spent with you. I’m so gladly you weren’t badly hurt!"

There was another awkward silence. Then Brad cleared his throat again. "I was lucky Dillon. I wasn’t hurt at all."

"You weren’t? How is that possible?" Dillon couldn’t seem to wrap his brain around that fact. The accident had been so bad he’d ended up blind and in a coma for two weeks. Now Brad was saying that he’d come out of if without a scratch. How was that possible?

"Didn’t they tell you anything about the accident?" Brad asked, his voice low.

"I never asked," Dillon admitted. "I was kind of too scared of what they would say."

Dillon heard Brad inhale and hold his breath before letting it out slowly. Then, Brad moved forward and took Dillon’s hand.

Dillon’s body sang at the contact. He’d missed the feel of Brad’s slender hand in his own. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over Brad’s perfectly manicured nails, seeing them in his mind.

"We were hit on the passenger side, Dillon," Brad said. "I never saw him coming. It was at the corner of Ericson and Maple. You know how that intersection is. All those trees and the stop signs on Maple. Half the time you can’t see them because of the low-hanging branches."

Dillon screwed up his forehead in thought, picturing a map in his head. "Why weren’t we on Ericson? Why would we have been on Maple?"

"We were on Ericson. And we had the right of way. It never occurred to me to check and see if anyone was on Maple. It was so late at night and Maple’s not a busy road even during rush hour. I just kept driving along, I never even saw him!"

Dillon brought Brad’s hand to his face and rubbed it against his cheek, making low, soothing sounds with his voice, trying to comfort Brad the best he could. "It’s okay Brad. Whatever happened, I’m sure it wasn’t your fault. But you need to tell me what happened."

Brad took a deep breath. Dillon could hear how shaky he was, even if he couldn’t see it. "I had just driven out into the intersection. You were asleep. I saw the lights to my right, but I didn’t look. After all, if there were a car there, surely they’d stop! But he didn’t. He came barreling out into that intersection. He was flying Dillon! He was going so fast I couldn’t think fast enough, move fast enough. And then he just slammed into the car. My airbags went off and I was thrown against them. Yours didn’t do a thing. I remember feeling my seat belt tighten and my body hitting the airbags, but then I remember your body hitting mine.

"When I came to, there were ambulances and paramedics and police everywhere. They took me to the ER. I tried to see you, but they wouldn’t let me. You have to believe that Dillon! They wouldn’t let me!"

"Shhhh, shhhh, it’s okay," Dillon comforted Brad. "I know you would have been by my side the whole time if they had let you been."

Brad stepped back, pulling his hand out of Dillon’s grasp. "I wanted to be there for you. It was killing me inside not to be there. All I did was think about the accident and how you could have died. I walked away from it, but you didn’t."

"No, I didn’t walk away. Even if I hadn’t broken anything, I wouldn’t have been able to see where I was walking," Dillon allowed some bitterness to creep into his voice. The doctors and nurses kept telling him how lucky he was to be alive, how lucky he was that he’d walk again. Walk where, he wanted to yell. I can’t see, how on earth am I going to know where I’m walking?

No one seemed to notice, though. They just kept talking about his luck. At the moment, he didn’t feel lucky at all.

"I know," Brad said. "I know you’re blind and I know it’s my fault. That’s why I haven’t been here. I figured you wouldn’t want to see . . . I mean talk to me."

"Oh Brad no!" Dillon exclaimed. "I always wanted you here. I was just too scared to ask where you were."

Dillon heard Brad take another deep breath. "The thing is, Dillon, I really have spent all this time thinking. Whether you believe it or not, I still see the accident as my fault. I still tell myself over and over again that I should have been more alert. I know I’m responsible for your being blind.

"I’m not strong enough, Dillon. I’m not strong enough to spend the rest of my life with you, looking at you, knowing I took away your life. I just can’t do it, Dillon."



My Life is You Ch. 03



They wouldn’t leave him alone. All he wanted was to be left alone. But they wouldn’t do it. They kept bugging him. Pushing him. Forcing him to react. Well, he wanted none of it. He didn’t want to learn to walk again, to learn Braille, to regain the strength in his arm. All he wanted was to be left alone.

Time had gone by slowly after the accident. He hadn’t had anything to do while he was in the hospital other than sit and brood. He couldn’t listen to the books on tape Brad had brought him. That would have been too painful. Instead, he had just sat there, doing nothing.

They had moved him into a room with two beds three days after Brad’s visit. He’d had a roommate. Some guy who had tried to talk to him, but Dillon had wanted none of it.

What was there to talk about? He was blind. He was single. He was alone. Not much to talk about on his part.

He had finally been released. The guy who had hit him was incredibly rich and Dillon was lucky that he had been well insured. The guy was paying for an at-home nurse so that Dillon would be able to live at home, instead of a nursing home.

A nursing home. Was that where he would end up? People weren’t supposed to be in nursing homes before their seventies! But, what other options were there for him? He couldn’t work anymore. It was hard to be a computer analyst when you couldn’t see a computer screen. Even when he could walk again, he wouldn’t be able to drive to the grocery store. What use was he?

Dillon didn’t fool himself. Brad hadn’t left because he felt guilty. Brad left because he knew Dillon was now worthless.

He heard two voices talking and then quiet laughter. The at-home nurse must have the television on, he thought to himself. After all, we’re the only two here.

The door to his bedroom opened then and Dillon realized that he heard two sets of steps. Who else could possibly be here? He had chased all his friends away within the first week of coming home. Tell someone to go away enough times and he finally listens to you. Nor did he have any family, his parents having disowned him for being gay long ago.

"Well, Mr. Marshall," came the voice of Ms. Sterning, "You have succeeded in chasing away your physical therapist. I hope you are proud of yourself."

Dillon shrugged. It didn’t really matter whether the therapist showed up or not. He had no plans on doing anything remotely therapeutical. 

"I don’t know why you care one way or another, Nurse Sterning," Dillon replied, a note of bitterness in his voice. "You get paid even if I don’t get better. In fact, it’s probably better for you if I never recover use of anything. At least you’ll have job security."

"That’s it, I’ve heard enough," the other person in the room finally spoke. Dillon had almost forgotten him. His voice sounded vaguely familiar. "I think you need to leave Mr. Marshall and me alone for a while Nurse Sterning. We have a lot to talk about."

"I’m more than happy to let you have him, Mr. Evans. I have the marketing to do and the laundry to finish."

Dillon heard her walk from the room and firmly close the door. He had no idea who he was alone with. The voice was familiar, but the name was not. None of his friends were named Evans. Nor were any of the numerous doctors that had poked and prodded him since the accident.

"Ok, we’re alone now Dillon," the man named Evans said. "And we’re going to lay down some ground rules." His voice was slightly steely and Dillon could almost feel the waves of resolve emanating from his body.

"Look," Dillon burst out, "I don’t know who you are and why you’re here, but you can just get the hell out. I’m not in a mood to deal with people just now."

Suddenly Dillon felt hands braced on either side of his hips. He smelled the man’s slightly minty breath as Evans got in his face. "Oh, I’m sure you’re not. As I remember, you’re not in the mood to deal with anything anymore. Well, that’s too damn bad! You may have chased away one physical therapist, but you won’t chase away me. You’re stuck with me just like I’m stuck with you. It seems fate has decided that whether we like it or not, we are going to know each other. You didn’t want to get to know me before, well now you have no choice!"

"What the hell do you mean I didn’t want to get to know you before?" Dillon demanded. "We’ve never met before, so how could I possibly know you?"

"Ah," Evans said, as he stood up. "You don’t remember my last name, huh? Well, it’s your old pal, Seth, and I’m here to get you walking and functioning again."

"I DON’T KNOW ANY SETH!" Dillon bellowed at the top of his lungs.

"Yes you do Dillon. You may not remember me, but you do know me. And I’ll be damned if I’ll let you throw away your life now!"

Dillon felt the covers ripped from his body. The next moment a pair of strong arms picked him up and deposited him in the rarely used wheelchair next to the bed. Apparently Seth Evans didn’t take "no" for an answer.

"We’ll start with the basics and go on from there," Seth said as he wheeled Dillon out of the bedroom and down the hall. "You had good muscles once upon a time, but inactivity is taking a toll on you. You still have a good foundation, but you need to work on getting those muscles strong enough again to make yourself mobile."

The wheelchair stopped and once again Seth picked Dillon up. Now, Dillon was by no means a small man. Before the accident, Dillon had been heavily into the martial arts and yoga. His body had been hard and muscular, but with flexibility most men could not claim. Standing at just over 6’2", Dillon’s frame had been a hard packed 220 pounds. Some of that muscle had converted to flesh, but Dillon was still large.

Seth was even larger. Dillon could tell just from the few moments he had been in Seth’s arms. Seth’s arms and chest were well muscled, and there was a sense of height when he picked Dillon up. It took him longer to straighten than it would a man of average height.

Having been deposited on a padded table, Dillon felt around himself. The table seemed to be leather or vinyl, covered by a smooth sheet. The table was narrow, not much wider than Dillon’s hips. If he were to lie down, his shoulders would actually overhang the edges a bit.

"This is a massage table," Seth announced. "And yes, we’ll use it for massages. But we’re also going to use it to get you on the road to recovery."

Seth pressed his hands to Dillon’s shoulders, pushing him down to lie upon the table. "Now, reach up and grab the bar above you."

"What bar?" Dillon demanded. "You seem to forget that I can’t see anything."

"I haven’t forgotten that you can’t see, Dillon. But you seem to have forgotten that you don’t need your eyes to make your arms work!" Seth’s hand grasped Dillon’s. "Everyone has ended up without light at least once. Think! You put your hands out and felt for what you knew was there. A light switch, a lamp, a wall, whatever you needed to find. Well, now you need to find that bar and that’s exactly what you’re going to do."

Forcing Dillon’s arms into an extended position, Seth stood back. "Someday you’re going to need to get up for some reason. I’m not going to be there and Nurse Sterning will be busy down in the kitchen or the laundry. You’ll have to do it on your own. You’ll have to be independent. That independence starts here, starts now, when you grab that bar."

"And what the hell am I supposed to do once I’m up?" Dillon demanded. "I can’t see, so I can’t do what used to be my job. I can’t drive anywhere. I can’t even look up the number for a taxi in the phone book! I’m going nowhere and I’m doing nothing. So excuse me if I don’t want to put myself through all the pain of rehab just to end up back in bed or sitting on the couch. Now take me the hell back to bed!"

"If you want to get back to bed," Seth replied, "you’re going to have to pull yourself up into a sitting position. We’ll deal with what to do once you’re up later. For now, you’re getting yourself up. And you’re starting by grabbing that bar!"

"And if I don’t?" there was a note of belligerence in Dillon’s voice.

"Then you’ll just lay there until you do because I’m not helping you back to bed," Seth said with finality. Dillon heard him walk away. Then, there was the slight creak of springs as Seth sat upon the guestroom bed. Some rustling followed, Seth cleared his throat once, and next came the sound of papers being flipped. Finally, it grew quiet.

Dillon was determined to call Seth’s bluff. There was no way he’d be left to lie here all day, much less all night. It was too dangerous. While awake, he could feel where the edges were. If he fell asleep, he might roll off. And while his arm was now cast free, it wasn’t ready for that kind of impact. Also, his knee still had some complicated contraption wrapped around it. A fall now would be just about the worst thing that could happen to it.

So Dillon lay on the table and Seth read his book. As time slowly passed, Dillon began to fidget. He was hungry and he needed to relieve himself, but he’d be damned if he’d ask Seth for help. It was Seth’s job to help him and Dillon was going to force him to do it.

Time continued to tick away and Dillon’s bladder demanded release with greater urgency. At one point, Seth even got up himself and used the bathroom. But he never said a word to Dillon. He just arranged himself back on the bed and began reading again.


Just when Dillon was about to give up and say something to Seth, he heard footsteps in the hall. Nurse Sterning! She would surely help him. The door opened and a smile spread across his face.

"I thought I would just inform you that I’m back from the market," Nurse Sterning said in her proper manner. "I’m going to begin supper, but would you like anything to eat or drink until then Mr. Evans?"

"Thank you, Nurse Sterning, but I’m fine for now," Seth replied.

"Well, if that will be all . . ."

"No! That won’t be all!" Dillon exploded. "Nurse Sterning, I want you to help me down off this table and to the bathroom. After that, I would like something to eat before dinner."

"I’m afraid I can’t do that Mr. Marshall," Nurse Sterning spoke with a pleasant tone. "That table is part of your therapy. I’m sure Mr. Evans will remove you from it when he believes it is time to do so. I wouldn’t dream of impeding your progress." With that said, she firmly shut the door and left.

"So you have to use the bathroom, huh?" Seth questioned. "I can help you do that, but you need to sit up first."

Dillon was in shock. What had just happened? Surely this was all just a bad dream! But somehow he knew it was not.

The accident hadn’t been. His blindness hadn’t been. Brad’s breaking up with him hadn’t been. There was no reason for this to be.

In the downward spiral of life, Dillon felt like he was rapidly sinking to the bottom. He didn’t even have the solace of numbness. No, that had worn off long ago. He felt everything now. He felt it deeply.

At the moment, though, he felt lost. Not angry, not sad, just lost. He’d lost everything. Now, he was even lost in his own home. He remembered the guestroom, but he couldn’t tell you how many steps it was from the bed to the door. A massage table had been added. He didn’t know exactly where it had been placed, even if he had a general idea. Which side would lead to the bathroom? Which would lead to the hall?

That’s when Dillon felt tears trickling down his cheeks. He tried very hard not to sob. It would do him no good since Seth obviously had no sympathy in his heart. So, Dillon fought not to embarrass himself.

But the emotions rushing around in him were just too overwhelming to contain. They needed an outlet. His body began to shake and tremble. The table slightly creaked underneath him. Then a sob burst from him. If he’d had the strength, he would have curled onto his side and held himself. Instead, he just lay there and sobbed his heart out. The tears scalded the sides of his face and his mouth filled with the salty liquid as they ran onto his lips.

The storm lasted a good five minutes. When it was over, his body was even weaker than before. His head felt clearer, however. He sucked in deep breaths and slowly let them out.

So Seth was going to force him after all. Seth had won. Dillon didn’t feel like he had lost, however. He had actually gained a great deal of insight. He was lost. The horrible pressure he had felt in his chest was the sense of being lost and alone. Well, he could live with it or he could do something about it.

Dillon decided to do something about it. He wiped his sweaty palms on his t-shirt and then reached out for the bar.

Note: To all self-respecting physical therapists, I greatly apologize. I actually know nothing about your profession or the techniques you use to help severely injured individuals. I hope you can find it within yourselves to forgive my creative license and enjoy the story at face value. 



My Life is You Ch. 04



Dillon's arms ached in a way that he couldn't remember them having done before. His shoulders cried out each time he moved, his back throbbing in time with the beating of his heart.

None of that mattered, though. Tonight, he had done something he hadn't believed possible just a week ago. Without any help from Nurse Sterning or Seth, he had used the bar to get himself out of bed, into the wheelchair, to the bathroom, back out and into bed again.

Who would ever have thought that a simple piss would be the greatest independent act of his life? Surely not him. It didn't matter. Dillon felt on top of the world.

Collapsing back onto the pillows, he barely had the energy to draw the covers up and over him before falling asleep. For the first time in a long time, his sleep wasn't bothered with dreams of hopelessness.

Unseen, Seth quietly closed the door to Dillon's bedroom. Pride shone from his eyes. Putting his hand to the door for just a moment, he envisioned the man lying within before going back to his own bed.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

The sun shone in through the drapes, dappling the floor as the trees moved languidly outside the window. Birds, newly arrived from the south, sang joyously to each other, exchanging news of their travels.

Inside, Dillon lay upon the massage table, oblivious to the world around him. All his energy, all his might, was focused upon his knee. Gasping in pain, he slowly bent his knee, letting Seth handle the weight of his leg.

Sweat beaded his body. His fingers clenched, knuckles straining white, against the edge of the table. Letting out a moan, he slowly lowered his leg back to the surface of the table.

Sucking in a breath, he began the exercise again. Raise the leg; slowly bend the knee; straighten the knee; lower the leg to the table. Once upon a time, this would have been a simple sequence. He had done many more complicated moves with his legs in the past. Now it seemed the hardest thing in the world.

Seth smiled and removed his hands from Dillon's leg. "Your range of motion is greatly improved Dillon. You almost have your knee to a 90-degree angle."

Dillon thought for a moment before speaking. "Will my knee ever be as strong as it once was?" He had wanted to ask for a long time, but had been too apprehensive when it came to the answer.

Sighing, Seth moved to a nearby table. "I'm not going to lie to you Dillon," he said, picking up a bottle of massage oil and dropping it into the warmer. "You were in great shape and extremely active before the accident, so with hard work, you can be that way again. But you're going to have a bum knee. It's going to ache after workouts or on days you walk a lot. You'll probably develop arthritis in that knee later on in life. Who cares, though? Most people end up with arthritis in their joints. If you want to keep up your study of the martial arts, you'll be able to do it. If you want to do yoga again, I say go for it. You just might end up using more ice packs than you used to."

"Martial arts?" Dillon asked, as he rolled over onto his stomach. "I wouldn't think that would be possible. Not since I can't, well, you know . . ."

"Oh, you already know all the forms," Seth replied. "You can probably see them in your mind now. It doesn't matter that you can't see them in the mirror as long as you have someone to watch for you. Also, martial arts focuses in on sensing the world around you. It helps develop concentration and focus. I think that's more important for you now than ever before."

Opening the warmer, Seth used a towel to pluck the bottle of massage lotion from its steamy confines. He carried it over to the massage table and set it on the special tray designed for that task.

"Any particular areas I should concentrate on today?"

"Not really," Dillon replied. "Although, I almost wish there were just so I'd get one of your extra-long massages."

Seth laughed and squirted some massage lotion into his hands. "No cheating. If you want a more in-depth massage, all you have to do is ask."

"I'm asking!" Dillon exclaimed before lowering his head down onto his folded arms.

They both fell silent as Seth began Dillon's massage. This had become a daily ritual, one they both enjoyed. It was a quiet time, not filled with pressures or expectations for either of them. They could each relax with private thoughts.

Dillon usually just drifted, letting his mind wander. It was one of the few times he wasn't concentrating on getting better or trying to figure out what he was going to do with his life. Sometimes, he just enjoyed the chance to lie still and do nothing. 

Today, though, he was unable to drift like he normally did. Instead, his mind was focused on the knead and press and stroke of Seth's hands over his body. He moaned slightly as Seth worked out a muscle knot where Dillon hadn't known one existed.

Seth's hands moved from his shoulders down his back. His thumbs supplied firm pressure on both sides of Dillon's spine while his large palms transferred warmth to the broad plane of his back. The heels of his hands provided firm pressure as he stroked over Dillon's smooth skin.

Dillon moaned again, this time from the feel of Seth's strong hands on his body. He didn't know if Seth was a handsome man or not, but Seth's obviously well muscled body was beginning to become central to Dillon's limited fantasy life.

Seth's hands moved down to the small of Dillon's back. His fingers brushed over the rise of Dillon's buttocks as he continued to massage away any stress that Dillon might be feeling.

Next came Dillon's favorite part. Seth inserted his fingers into the legs of Dillon's shorts so that he could rub the muscles at the top of Dillon's back thighs before moving down. Today, Dillon's penis was rigid as it lay along his inner leg. He found himself hoping that Seth's fingers would move inward and stroke the head of his penis.

It wasn't meant to be, however. Instead, Seth's hands moved farther down his legs. Dillon let out a tiny sigh as his hopes for some sign that Seth was interested faded away.

Of course, he didn't know if Seth was into men or not. Their relationship was not really a friendship. Seth was dedicated to Dillon's recovery and as such was a caregiver. While they had developed a type of comradery, they had never moved into the realm of confidence sharing.

Dillon didn't even know if Seth was aware of Dillon's homosexuality. Dillon had never spoken of the painful scene with Brad. No one in Dillon's life, including his friends, now knew that he was single. He had discovered that, after time had gone by, he could still interact with some of his friends. They didn't pity him, but they did have compassion for him. He could take compassion. Brad's desertion, however, might push them over the edge into pity. There was no way he was going to have that.

Seth's hands had moved down to Dillon's calves. Seth was always very careful here, making sure not to cause Dillon any extra pain when near his knee.

Oh, how he would love to have Seth's hands stroking over him in passion! Part of him wondered if he felt that way because Seth was the only man around, but another part recognized that Seth was truly a wonderful man. Dillon's skin tingled wherever Seth touched him, even if it was the slightest brush.

If he could see, he'd know if Seth felt the same way. People, even the most reserved of people, gave away their feelings in hundreds of ways. Their eyes dilated, their nostrils flared slightly, their breathing increased when they were aroused. If they were near someone they found attractive, they would watch that person for longer periods of time than normal, often trying to do so covertly; almost always failing.

He couldn't observe any of this, however. Did Seth watch him? Did his eyes dilate? Dillon was sure if his own eyes were properly functioning now, all you'd see was pupil.

For about the millionth time, he cursed his new blindness. He had come closer to accepting it than he had ever thought possible, but he missed being able to see someone he was attracted to. Dillon had always been a very visual man, both in and out of relationships.

He remembered watching the sunset and thanking the Lord for the beauty spread out before him. Brad had once taken him on a picnic in the park. He'd loved watching the little kids play, seeing hair flying as they jumped and slid and ran. The world offered so much visual beauty that he would never see again.

He had been just as visually stimulated in bed. The sight of a muscle pushing against skin had always been enough to make his breathing quicken. Watching Brad after a shared workout, he'd treasured the sight of sweat running down Brad's body and imagining how he would let his tongue follow it later. Then, there was looking at an ass. Dillon was an ass man. He loved the sight, feel, taste, and smell of a well-made ass. Given the chance, he could still touch, taste, smell, but he'd never see again.

Now he felt Seth's hands on the bottoms of his feet. Dillon shivered as Seth's fingers moved between each of his toes. If he only knew how Seth felt, he would be on him in an instant. As it was, Dillon had to fight not to turn over, exposing how aroused he was.

Dillon concentrated on breathing deep, trying to focus his thoughts on anything other than Seth and the touch of Seth's hands on his body. Soon, he really would have to turn over. Dillon didn't want to betray himself when he did so.

The time came. Seth told him to turn over. Dillon didn't want to hesitate and gain Seth's attention that way, but neither did he want Seth to see the massive erection he was sporting. Deciding that no matter what, Seth was going to see the state he was in eventually, Dillon slowly turned onto his back.

Seth only hesitated a moment before picking up the bottle of massage lotion again. Squirting some onto his hands, he rubbed them together before going to work on Dillon's shoulders and chest.

When Seth's hands moved over Dillon's nipples, Dillon couldn't stop himself from moaning. Seth jerked back. Dillon heard him take a deep breath prior to resuming the massage. He continued to massage Dillon, seeming to concentrate fiercely on the task.

Inwardly, Dillon was berating himself for letting even that small bit of lust show. Outwardly, he was doing his best not to reveal any more of what he was feeling. 

Once the massage was done, Seth silently moved to clean up the area. He placed the bottle of massage lotion back by the warmer and cleaned his hands with a towel. He then threw the towel into the hamper.

"Do you need me to help you into your wheelchair, Dillon?" Seth asked, his deep voice seeming thunderous in the previously silent room.

"No," Dillon said, "I think I just want to rest here for a while before heading back to my room. I'll manage on my own or call for help if I need it once I'm ready to move."

Seth silently left the room.

------------------------------------------------------

The music in the club was loud, making conversation difficult. Waiters and waitresses in tight leather pants or skirts and red t-shirts with "Fantasia" scrawled across them moved among the throngs of people. Some carried specific orders, while others had trays of pre-made shots.

Seth sat in a corner booth with some of his friends, watching the couples on the dance floor. Next to him, Nathan was holding hands w/his current love and betting on which dance couples were about to get down and dirty. Across from him, Eric was laughing as he and Belinda made up pretend biographies for some of the more unusually dressed club goers.

His hand wrapped around a beer, Seth silently listened to his friends. Normally he would either be betting against Nathan or adding details to Eric and Belinda's game, but tonight he just silently enjoyed their company.

He had needed badly to get out. For the past two months he had concentrated all his energy and skills on Dillon, making him the center of his life. The problem with that was that Dillon really was becoming central to his life. Seth was a professional man. Never had he crossed the line with a patient. As much as he wanted to do so now, he knew it would be wrong.

Seth was aware Dillon was gay. It would have been hard to miss. Not that Dillon acted like the stereotypical gay men you saw on television. Far from it. If Seth weren't living in Dillon's house, he would be convinced that Dillon was as straight as straight could be.

Given the selection of porn in Dillon's entertainment center and the wide range of lubes available in both the bathroom and the guest bedroom, however, Dillon was either an extremely accommodating host to his gay friends, or he was gay himself.

Even that wouldn't have been a sure-fire way to tell, but a phone call from Brad, which he had answered, was the final proof. Just yesterday, this Brad had called to check on Dillon. Since Dillon no longer even kept a telephone in his bedroom, it was up to Seth and Mrs. Sterning to catch all the incoming calls.

Brad had been very relieved when Dillon hadn't been the one to answer the phone. As far as Seth was concerned, Brad had also been a scum-sucking shit bag. When Brad had said he was a friend of Dillon's and asked how Dillon was doing, Seth had offered to take the phone to Dillon.

Talk about backtracking fast! Brad had been very hasty to say he just couldn't talk to Dillon now. It would be too hard on him, knowing that Dillon was handicapped (a word Seth hated) and that their relationship had ended at such a time. Brad had assured Seth that things were practically over between Dillon and him anyway, but then he had given that nervous little laugh that was the hallmark of a bad liar.

No wonder Dillon had been in such bad emotional health when Seth arrived. Losing your sight and worrying about your future physical health were terrifying things. But having the man you loved dump you because of his problems with it, well that was just beyond brutal. 

"Earth to Seth, Earth to Seth," Eric's voice intruded into his thoughts. "Hey, baby brother, wake up over there!"

Seth smiled, looking into eyes identical to his own. It always amused him when Eric called him "baby brother." After all, they were only fifteen minutes apart in age.

"I'm awake, Eric." Seth replied. "My eyes are open and everything."

Belinda laughed. "Your eyes are open, and your brain's engaged, but the two aren't working together."

"What on earth does that mean?"

"It means that a gorgeous man has been trying to get your attention for the past fifteen minutes and you haven't even noticed," Nathan replied, pointing toward another booth just a few feet away.

Nathan was right. The guy was gorgeous. He had dark brown hair that was just short of being black. It curled just a bit, but not much since it was cut too short to really have enough to curl. His pale skin contrasted nicely with a pair of sparkling aquamarine eyes. He obviously worked out, since his biceps were straining the arms of his shirt. All in all, normally he was the sort of guy Seth would have gone for.

Seth was stunned to find he wasn't interested at all. His body was too contrived. It was clear that his muscles came from the gym and the gym alone. No amount of hard work or athletics put them there. While his mouth was nicely sculpted, it wasn't full, begging to be kissed.

"I think someone's going to get lucky tonight!" Nathan boasted. "Besides me," he hastily added, turning to kiss Greg on the mouth.

Greg traced his fingertip around Nathan's lip, then pushed him away playfully. "You hope you're getting lucky!"

"Come on, you guys!" Belinda exclaimed. "Let Seth decide for himself if he's going to try and hook up with that guy. Besides, it's not all about getting lucky. Have any of you thought about the fact that they might be a relationship waiting to happen?" 

Eric picked up Belinda's hand and said, "I'm not going to answer that on the grounds that I might piss you off and end up being the only guy at this table not to get lucky tonight."

Even Seth laughed at that one. Of course, he didn't believe for a moment that Belinda was going to cut Eric off tonight. Even after four years of marriage, Belinda and Eric still steamed up the room whenever they were together. Seth only knew of one occasion when Eric had been left on the couch, and that had been early on in their marriage. Now, they seemed to have the best marriage he had ever seen.

"So, what are you waiting for bro?" Eric asked. "Go talk to your man!"

"No, I don't think so," Seth said, taking a sip of his beer. "I'm here to hang out with all of you, not troll for guys."

The four others exchanged a look. Then Greg leaned forward. "Look, Seth, I've known you the shortest amount of time, but even I can tell there's something wrong. Is it anything you want to talk about?"

Seth thought before answering. On the one hand, he didn't really know what was wrong. On the other, talking things out was usually the best help a person could have.

"Earlier today, I was doing another session with my client. I've told you about him. The guy who was blinded and shattered his knee in a car accident." Everyone nodded; indicating that they remembered what Seth was talking about. "Well, after each training session, I give him a massage, help him to relax before he heads back to his room."

"That's pretty standard from what you've told us," Eric said. "I thought you did that with most of your clients."

Sighing, Seth said, "I do. There are a lot of therapeutic reasons that I won't bore you with, but I definitely believe it's a good practice. This was different, though. He got hard during the massage and I found myself wanting to caress him more than massage him. I've never felt this way toward a client before."

"Maybe you can't have him as a client then," Belinda said. "Maybe you and he are meant to be something more. But I know you. You firmly believe in maintaining your professionalism. You'd never cross the line with a client. So, in order for you to find out what you could have with this guy, you may have to stop being his therapist."

"It's not that easy," Seth replied. "His boyfriend dumped him just after the accident. Two previous therapists have dropped him. I can't do that too. After all, he's come so far. What would another person walking away from him do?"

"Then you'll have to keep yourself distanced," Eric said. "Help him. He needs you now. When this is all over, when he's walking again, let him walk away."

Let Dillon walk away. How on earth could he do that? The only time Seth wanted to see the back of Dillon was when he had his hands on him. 

Eric had a point however. So did Belinda. It would be unethical to use the close relationship that a therapist forms with his patient to get that patient in bed. Seth couldn't go there. He'd not only be in danger of losing his license, he'd also never forgive himself.

Dillon deserved a physical therapist that had his best interests at heart. Seth definitely had that. Morosely, Seth realized that would have to be enough because he could never let there be more. 



My Life is You Ch. 05



There had been a time when Dillon hadn't cared if he would ever walk again. The result hadn't seemed worth the effort. He couldn't see his life going anywhere, so he didn't feel the need to be able to get there.

No great revelations had come to him in the past three months. There had been no bolt of lightning, no voice of thunder telling him what he was going to do with his life now. But Dillon had begun to care again. Seth had somehow given him that. In some way, Seth had used the past two months to bring back his will to live.

He wanted to walk without a limp, to know that he had achieved that. Seth was right; his muscles weren't nearly as firm as they used to be. Oh, he had never had the physique of a body builder, but he'd been pleased with what he'd had. No one would ever have called him soft, but at the same time he'd had just enough that when snuggling, the other guy didn't feel like he was lying against an uneven piece of metal.

Dillon had dated a couple of guys like that. Their bodies had turned him on until he'd touched them. At that point, he had discovered he liked the give of flesh. Not too much give, but enough to be comfortable.

Well, now, as far as he was concerned, he had way too much give. Oh, he wasn't fat by any means. His depression had killed his appetite, so he'd actually lost weight during the past three months. However, he felt he was getting a bit flabby. He didn't want that to go too far, because once the deterioration began, it was harder to regain what you had lost. Maintenance was a much better way to go.

With that thought in mind, he was down on the floor of his bedroom. He was determined to do fifty push-ups, no matter how long it took him. His left foot was braced on the floor and his right was up and over his left leg so that he wouldn't put undue stress on his right knee. He had his arms spread wide, knowing that this position would work the pectorals more than the biceps. He could stand flabby arms for a little while longer, but there was no way he was going to put up with having flabby tits!

Dillon began to slowly do his push-ups, controlling the movement as much as possible. He wanted to get the maximum result from these, since he didn't have the resources to do much more. 

His physical therapy had helped some with keeping his muscles from going totally soft. He got through the first ten push-ups without a problem. The next ten were a bit harder and he began to rest just a tad longer in between each one. By the time he finished another ten, sweat was pouring off his body, his arms were shaking, and his right foot was beginning to slip off his left leg. He kept going, though, determined to finish it all.

On the thirty-fifth extension of his arms, his strength gave out. He went crashing down to the floor. This wouldn't have been a problem if his right foot hadn't just slipped again so that his right knee was bent. His knee hit the floor first, hard. Even though his room was carpeted with a thick, oatmeal plush, the impact was more than his healing knee could take. Dillon cried out in pain, rolling onto his side as his hands instinctively went down to his knee, cradling it as if he could protect it from further insult.

A moment later the bedroom door swung open and Dillon heard someone come rushing in. As the person dropped down next to him, Dillon smelled the distinctive aroma that he had come to associate with Seth. It was a mixture of a clean-smelling soap and the musky heat of the man himself.

"What happened?" Seth asked as his hands settled on Dillon's knee. "Did you fall out of bed?" Seth's hands probed and prodded, judging what they could. Despite the pressure Seth was putting on his injured knee, however, Dillon's pain wasn't heightened. In fact, the reassuring warmth of Seth's hands did more to take away the pain than two pain pills could have.

"No, I was doing some push-ups," Dillon gritted out, his back teeth clenched against the pain. "I hadn't done very many when my body decided I couldn't do anymore."

"What the hell were you thinking?" Seth demanded. As he did so, he gathered Dillon into his arms and stood. Turning, he deposited Dillon on the bed. "You stay right there!" he snapped out. Dillon then heard angry footsteps moving away.

A moment later, Dillon sensed he was alone in the room. Seth had left. And Seth had been really pissed off!

Dillon didn't get it. It wasn't like he was trying to re-injure his knee. Far from it. He was trying to return to some semblance of the life he had once had. Wasn't that what Seth was always telling him? That he needed to go on living?

Okay, maybe doing pushups on the floor of his room alone in the middle of the night wasn't the best idea. He probably could have done himself serious injury if he wasn't careful. While he had banged his tender knee, it was settling down to that warm throb that told him he wasn't truly hurt.

It just hadn't occurred to him that he was incapable of doing fifty pushups. That had actually seemed like a small amount to him. He had never expected to lose the strength in his arms so completely.

A moment later, Dillon heard Seth walk back into the room. "What are you doing still sitting on the side of the bed like that? Why aren't you in it?" Seth asked as he neared the bed.

"You told me not to move and I figured I shouldn't disobey," Dillon replied.

Seth made a sound that was half disparaging snort and half amusement before leaning down and pulling back the covers. Then Dillon felt Seth's hands guiding him back to sit against some pillows that were propped up against the headboard. Next, Seth carefully lifted Dillon's right leg and moved a pillow under Dillon's knee. Finally, he placed an ice pack on Dillon's knee.

"Do you want to tell me why you were doing pushups in the middle of the night?" Seth asked. "Or was that just for kicks?"

Dillon thought before speaking. How much could he tell Seth? On the other hand, whom was he going to tell any of this to if not Seth? Certainly not Nurse Sterning. She wasn't the type to inspire confidences. 

"I want my life back Seth," Dillon softly began. "Oh, I know it can never be exactly the same, but I want at least a part of it. I want to feel like I'll still be useful, still be able to do things. I want to feel like I'll still be desirable," this last part was said so softly that Dillon almost didn't hear it himself.

Seth had sharp ears. "Desirable, how, Dillon?" he asked.

"I don't look the same, I know I don't. My eyes, they're not like normal eyes anymore. The nurses at the hospital told me they were kind of this cloudy, milky color; no real pupil or anything. And I can feel the scars. Oh, they've gotten smaller and there aren't many of them, but I know they're there. I was never the handsomest guy around, but I wasn't ugly either. Now, no matter what anyone says, I'll never know how I'll look.

"At least I can do something about having an attractive body, though. I used to have a good body; mostly because I enjoy being active, but partially out of vanity. Well, now it's all vanity. My body is the best thing I have going for me, but only if I work to make it even better than it used to be.

"I need to know that there's something about me that will make me . . . I mean people notice me, something that will make them want to be with me. So, yeah, doing pushups on my own wasn't the smartest thing in the world in terms of my physical recovery, but mentally I really need to be able to do them."

Seth hadn't said a word or made a sound to interrupt him as all this came out of Dillon. He had simply sat and listened, holding an ice pack to Dillon's knee the whole time. 

"What about what's inside of you?" was the quiet question that finally emerged from his mouth. "Do you think people only care about your outside?"

"No, I'm not quite that shallow, Seth. I know there's more to me and the majority of people out there than their physique and degree of pulchritude. But you have to admit, the majority of people never get to really know a person unless there's something that draws them there in the first place."

"I can tell you you're not ugly and not deformed, but I know it's not going to do any good." As Seth spoke, Dillon felt him push a lock of hair off of Dillon's face. Dillon fought not to shiver at the tender touch, even as he reacted to the gently timbre of Seth's voice. "All the people in the world could tell you that, but unless you come to believe it on your own, all those words will ever be are platitudes. What I can do is help you in other ways. 

"If you're serious about making sure that you're in good shape, that not only do you regain full use of your knee, but full use of your body, I can help you there. I'm a physical therapist, but that's not too different from being a trainer. I have no problem with helping you. 

"But I want your promise that there will be no more incidents like this. I want your word that you'll agree to go at the pace I set, do the things I say you can and not push to try things I know you're not ready yet for. If you can agree to that, I can help you."

Dillon didn't even hesitate. He quickly nodded his head, but spoke aloud also, just in case Seth needed a verbal commitment as well. "I promise, Seth, I won't do more than you say I can. I also promise that you'll never have a patient that works harder than I do."

If there was ever anyone who was as good as his word, Dillon was that man. He'd made a promise to work harder than any other patient ever had had, and he really did. He didn't push harder than Seth wanted him to, but he didn't balk at working his body to the point of exhaustion. 

He seemed to be a man on a crusade. He never complained, never whined that he was too tired or too sore. Seth knew he had to be hurting some. His muscles just weren't used to the physical exertion any more. The most that came out of Dillon's mouth, though, was the occasional grunt or gasp as he pushed himself to the limits of his endurance. This was normal, though. Walk into any gym, and you'll find men and women making the same sounds as they worked to improve their bodies.

They had progressed from two one-hour sessions a day to two two-hour sessions. The first hour was still taken up with the physical therapy required to rehabilitate Dillon's knee, but the second was devoted to other activities.

Seth couldn't believe the number of sit-ups and crunches Dillon was able to do. Even after three months of forced inactivity, he was in much better shape than the majority of people. His martial arts training had taught him how to quickly tighten his belly in order to protect against a sudden blow. Those muscles remembered the activity, even if they hadn't performed it in quite some time.

Now, when Dillon did push-ups, it was with Seth helping to support his right leg. Seth never actually let Dillon push to the point of collapse, but neither was Seth taking the chance that it might unexpectedly happen. Instead, he would sit on Dillon's right, his legs folded just beneath Dillon's knee. While Dillon still braced his left foot on the floor, on the right Seth supported him from the knee down. This threw his center of gravity off slightly, but he simply learned to adjust how he placed his hands on the floor.

Weights had also been added to their daily sessions. Seth brought in the barbells that he kept at his home and showed Dillon several different ways to use them. As a result, Dillon's biceps began to bulge slightly and his stomach was slowly beginning to take on the definition it had once had.

Through all of this, Seth did his best to keep a professional distance. He was Dillon's therapist, he reminded himself time and again. There was a trust implicit in that relationship. He couldn't bring himself to ever step over that line, although he ached to do so.

Twice a day, he watched Dillon work up a sweat. He watched the play of muscles on Dillon's body. He came into close contact with Dillon, helping him to adjust position, technique, and balance. 

Each time he felt himself yearning to turn a grasp into a caress, he'd remind himself that Dillon was doing this for someone else, for some unnamed man that would happen along at some unspecified point in time. Dillon wasn't doing this for him, wasn't trying to attract him. Seth reminded himself of that, and silently suffered as Dillon improved, knowing that soon he wouldn't be needed.

Smiling proudly, Seth watched as Dillon walked off with a nurse. His right hand was grasping the inside of her elbow while his left worked the cane that he used for support.

Dillon was limping, but the fact that he was walking was a wonderful thing. Seth turned and sat down in the waiting room, picking up a magazine. He wasn't seeing the picture on the cover, however. In his mind's eye, he was seeing the pride on Dillon's face the first time he took a step after the accident.

They'd been working hard at strengthening and flexibility. Seth had finally judged it time to bring in the parallel bars that were invaluable in cases such as this. That had meant the massage table had to go since there wasn't room for both, but that was a small price to pay.

At first, Dillon had been apprehensive about the bars. Since he couldn't see them, he wasn't comfortable trying to work with them. He was always worrying that he would bang into them, maybe catch his face on the end of one.

They had gone beyond that when Seth had taught Dillon how to reach out for the bars and then use them to pull his wheelchair forward. That way, he'd know exactly where they were before he got close enough to do himself harm.

Next had come standing with the use of the bars. For anyone who didn't know anything about knee injuries, that would seem like a little thing. It was far from that. After all, it involved putting a great deal of weight on a joint that hadn't been used for support in quite a while. In addition, you had to go from a knee bent at a ninety-degree angle to a straight leg in one motion. Seth was sure Dillon would never take that action for granted ever again.

Finally Seth had judged Dillon ready to try taking that first step. It hadn't been a perfect step, in fact it had been more of a shuffle than anything, but for Dillon it had been a miracle. His smile had lit up his whole face and for just a brief moment, as he wiped tears from his eyes, Seth was thankful Dillon was blind. It was easier to hide the pride in your eyes when the person you were looking at couldn't see you.

Small shuffling steps had progressed to slow deliberate steps. From there they moved to the walker, Dillon practicing walking farther and turning, using his legs to pivot as he hadn't done in a long time. Then the day came that they said good-bye to the wheelchair.

Dillon had wanted Seth to help him take it to a junkyard. Seth had laughingly refused. He'd pointed out that it was only a rental and that someone else was going to need it in the future. Reluctantly, Dillon had allowed Nurse Sterning to return it to the medical supply company from whence it came.

Now Seth sat in the waiting room as the orthopedic surgeon who had been monitoring Dillon's progress evaluated Dillon's condition. Seth knew what the result would be and he was both saddened and elated by what Dillon was about to be told.

An hour later, another nurse led out a beaming Dillon to the waiting room. Seth laughed as he saw the four suckers that Dillon had carefully clasped between the fingers of the hand he used to be guided by the nurse. Dillon's sweet tooth had struck again, as a fifth sucker was protruding from his mouth.

Seth led Dillon toward the elevator but Dillon resisted. Turning to Dillon, Seth asked, "Did you need to head to the restroom before we leave?"

Dillon blushed but shook his head no. "I, well, I kind of wanted to know if we could take the stairs instead of the elevator."

"You know they won't be easy for you," Seth warned. "It's going to take us a good half-hour to get down them and once we get started, we won't be able to change our minds."

"I know," Dillon replied, "but it's something I'd really like to do."

"Let's do it then."

Seth hadn't underestimated the time it would take them to go down the stairs. It really was a half-hour process and by the time it was over, both of them were sweaty and exhausted. Dillon had been determined to do it on his own, which was why Seth was so tense by the time they were down at the bottom. He'd spent the whole time hovering just one step below Dillon, his body tensed in preparation for taking all of Dillon's weight if something should go wrong.

Nothing did go wrong. In fact, Dillon navigated the stairs beautifully. He took each one slowly and carefully, using the toe of his left foot to carefully search out the edge of each step before proceeding. He used the banister for support, letting it take much of his weight, but not so much that he would be lost if his grip slipped. Once again, Seth found himself with tears in his eyes as he watched this man prove himself again.

When they reached the lobby, they paused to rest. Dillon sat on a bench while Seth got water from the drinking fountain. Luckily, this clinic kept little paper cups next to the fountain, so Seth was able to take Dillon a drink.

After they had both quenched their thirst, they sat silently side-by-side on the bench. Dillon's eyes were closed, but that wasn't unusual. He never opened them anymore. In fact, Seth had no idea what they looked like since he had never seen them open. He knew Nurse Sterning helped Dillon to put in wetting drops three times a day, but he had never been called on for that duty.

Dillon was lost in his own world. He was feeling an elation that he was unable to put into words, so he hadn't even bothered to try. His life was finally beginning to look up, and Dillon was enjoying that feeling. 

The fact that Seth was next to him helped. Dillon knew there was nothing between them, that there could never be anything between them, but part of Dillon still cherished every moment they spent together, every touch they exchanged.

The time came when it was time to go. Seth helped him to his feet and Dillon's hand tingled where Seth's fingers had grasped his own. That had never changed, never diminished. Dillon had reacted to Seth's touch the day they met, and he still did.

Outside, the sun was warm on Dillon's face. It was still too cool to go without a light jacket, but Spring was definitely making itself felt. As they stood outside the car, Dillon enjoyed the feel of the breeze as it pushed against him.

"Do we have to go straight home?" Dillon suddenly found himself asking.

"I don't see why we have to," Seth replied, helping Dillon to sit down into the passenger seat of the car without banging his head or anything else.

"Can we go to a park then?" Dillon asked as he groped for the seat belt. Finding the strap, he ran his hand up it until he found the metal tongue and pulled it down and across his body.

After closing Dillon's door and jogging around to the driver's side, Seth slid behind the wheel. "You want to go to a park?"

"Yeah, I never get a chance to go outside anymore. We're always in the house; we don't even leave it for doctor's appointments that often. I'm outside now and it's a gorgeous day, or, at least it feels like a gorgeous day to me. I wanted to stay outside if I could."

"A park it is," with that, Dillon heard Seth start the car. He settled back into the seat, smiling. Searching the door with his fingers, he found the button to lower the window and lowered it part way.

He had been truthful when he'd said he missed being outside. He did. Dillon often thought of himself as a hedonist. He knew what he liked and he usually made sure he got plenty of it. Well, one thing Dillon loved was being out in nice weather. The feel of the sun and the breeze, the sound of the birds, they were wonderful things. He might not be able to see the trees anymore, but he wanted to lean back against one. Nor could he see kids playing, but if he got to hear it, he'd be able to play the movie in his mind.




My Life is You Ch. 05



There was another thing he enjoyed too that this trip would accomplish. He enjoyed being in Seth's company. He especially enjoyed it when they were together just to be together. His body thrilled to the touches they shared when working, but then he had to concentrate not to let that become obvious. When they were just together, not touching, just talking or being silent, he could play a game with himself. Dillon could pretend that Seth was with him because he wanted to be, not because he was paid to be. 

When they arrived at the park, Seth led Dillon to a park bench near the playground. School hadn't been let out for the day, so there were only children too young to attend school playing under the watchful eye of their parents and babysitters. They shrieked with delight and cried when they fell. Dillon loved all the sounds.

He and Seth sat there for about an hour. They rarely said anything. Dillon didn't know what Seth was watching, but it didn't matter. Dillon was seeing it all in his mind. He missed his sight, but in that moment he thanked the Lord that he'd at least had it at some point. Now, listening, smelling, and feeling could all bring back the visions for him to enjoy.

Finally, though, they had to leave. They had skipped the morning physical therapy session so that Dillon could see his doctor, but missing the afternoon one just wouldn't work.

Dillon started when he heard the doorbell ring. It was an unusual sound, one that had rarely happened since the accident. Turning off his stereo, he rose to his feet and grabbed his cane. Counting carefully, he moved four steps forward from his chair before turning to the left and walking another five steps. He then turned to the right and proceeded three steps before holding out his hand. The door should be directly in front of him and only two steps away, but he wasn't taking any chances.

Once he walked out into the hall, he clearly heard voices floating up the stairs. They were all deep, masculine voices, raised in cheerful tones. Walking as close to the stairs as he dared, Dillon began to pick out individual voices. Jeremy's deep bass was easily identifiable. Another friend, Dave, had a smoky voice that used to send shivers down Dillon's spine. He also detected the very precise tones of Carter. What were they all doing here?

The next thing he heard was someone bounding up the stairs. Dillon took a precautionary step back, not wanting whoever it was to bowl him over. 

"Well, if it isn't the man of the hour!" Dave exclaimed. "Glad to see you up and moving D!"

Dave often spoke in exclamations. He was very enthusiastic about almost everything he did. Dillon usually loved that trait in him. Every once in a while, though, he found it exhausting.

Dillon found himself crushed against Dave in an exuberant hug. Dave must have found some restraint, though, because he didn't compress Dillon's ribs until they creaked this time.

"You really look great, Dillon, but you're dressed all wrong!" Dave continued as he stepped back. "I'll help you though. We'll have you ready in not time flat!"

"Ready for what?" Dillon asked, confusion filling his voice. He hadn't even managed to say hello to Dave, but that was nothing new. Usually a person didn't manage to jump into Dave's conversations until they were well beyond the 'Hello' portion.

"It's Friday, and we're taking you out on the town!" Dave answered excitedly as he steered Dillon back toward his bedroom. "We have it all planned! We're going to head over to Fantasia and ogle men. They have Kickback playing there tonight and you know that band rocks."

"Um, I can't ogle men," Dillon said. His objection actually had very little to do with his lack of sight, though. In reality, he was just nervous about the idea of going out. He hadn't been to a club or even a restaurant since the accident. His trip to the park the day before was his first real outing in a very long time.

"Don't worry! I'll ogle 'em for you and just let you know what my eyes are eating! Now, I think you should wear your maroon shirt. The one with the military shoulders. It always looks so hot on you!"

Before he really understood what was happening, Dillon found himself changed and being slowly helped down the stairs. Dave kept up a running commentary as Dillon took his time, making sure to find each tread with his foot before proceeding.

When they entered the living room, Dillon found himself surrounded by Jeremy and Carter. They took turns hugging him and telling him how great he looked before asking if he was up for a great evening. Dillon considered saying no, considered objecting to the idea of going out, but the tense silence told him that was what they expected. He knew he'd have to go out sooner or later, so maybe he should start now.

"Sure, it sounds great!" Dillon's voice was falsely enthusiastic, but it was the best he could do.

As Dillon was led out the door, Seth came forward and handed him a jacket. "Would you like to come too?" Dillon asked him, hoping that he would say yes. Seth declined, though, and Dillon found himself sitting in the front seat of Carter's BMW, heading toward Fantasia.



My Life is You Ch. 06



Fantasia was a wildly popular place. Even on a weeknight, it was busy. On a Friday night though, and with Kickback playing, Fantasia was a madhouse.

Somehow, although Dillon had no idea how it could have been done, Carter had managed to reserve them a booth in the best location. It was a central spot, not far from the bar, the dance floor, or the bathrooms. 

The speakers were turned fully up, making conversation difficult. That didn’t matter, though. Dillon’s three friends were so happy to have him out with them again that they did whatever they had to in order to talk to him.

He had to admit, now that he was out with them, that he was having a good time. He’d missed them, missed the chance to have fun. His life had been exceedingly serious lately. At this moment, Dillon was treasuring the chance to relax and enjoy himself.


True to his word, Dave told Dillon about all the hot guys wandering around the club. Since Dave had very eclectic tastes, he ended up telling Dillon about a lot of guys. Dillon didn’t mind, though. He figured verbal ogling was better than no ogling at all.

Also, Dave and Dillon had dated at one time, before deciding they were better as friends than as lovers. Before Dillon hooked up with Brad, they had been occasional bed buddies as well, so Dave was very knowledgeable about what Dillon did and did not like.

"So, what’s up with the scrumptious Seth?" Dave asked when the band took a break and the decibel level fell a little. "He’s probably got amazing moves in bed."

Dillon felt himself flush a deep red. To give himself a moment, he raised his ice water and took a drink. He wasn’t drinking any alcohol because he didn’t want to be at all impaired while walking on his healing knee.

"I didn’t know he was scrumptious," Dillon finally said after carefully placing his plastic cup back on the table. He was lying, though. He might not have known what Seth looked like, but he knew he wouldn’t mind taking a bite out of Seth.

"Trust me Hon, that boy is delicious with a capital ‘D’!" Dave assured Dillon. "If I were you, I’d get hot every time he put his hands on me."

**

It was late and the club was getting ready to close. Dave was leading Dillon carefully outside. He had actually left his car in the parking lot earlier before riding with Carter and Jeremy to Dillon’s house. Now, Dave was going to drive Dillon while Jeremy and Carter headed back to their house.

They parted ways in the parking lot, Dillon thanking Carter and Jeremy for "dragging his sorry ass out of the house" before following Dave to his car. Dave drove a corvette and getting into it was a bit more complicated than with other cars.

Once Dillon was seated, Dave leaned into the car to buckle Dillon’s seatbelt for him. Dave’s body moved across Dillon, bringing them close together. Dillon inhaled, smelling the light sweat that Dave had worked up inside the club.

Then Dillon felt Dave’s breath on his cheek a minute before Dave’s lips brushed against his. It was a tentative kiss at first, but then Dave deepened it, sucking at Dillon’s lips.

Dillon’s hand came up and he tangled it in Dave’s hair. His whole being was centered on the feel of Dave’s lips against his, the firmness of them.

When Dave pulled back, Dillon was trembling a bit. He licked his lips, tasting Dave upon them. Then he slowly lowered his hand, letting it trail down Dave’s arm as he did.

"Come home with me."

The four words were softly spoken but they contained a wealth of meaning. Dillon just nodded.

Dave quickly shut Dillon’s door and hurried to get in the car himself. He started the engine and then there was a bit of rustling. Dillon heard a CD being inserted into the player and soon a sultry jazz number was pouring out of the speakers.

Dave lived just a few minutes from Fantasia and this late at night there was almost no traffic. They quickly arrived at Dave’s townhouse, where Dave very carefully led Dillon up the stairs to the bedroom.

They hadn’t spoken since Dillon had agreed to come home with Dave, but no words were needed. They both knew why he was there. They had come together before and knew each other’s bodies well.

For Dillon, this was different though. He was seeing nothing. In a weird way, he was sensing so much more than he ever had before. He could hear Dave’s heightened breathing, smell Dave’s musky scent, feel Dave’s touch tremble slightly.

Dave stepped back from Dillon and he heard the rustle of clothes. Then Dave’s hands were on Dillon again, helping Dillon to undress. As Dillon let his shirt drop to the floor, Dave ran his hands up Dillon’s torso, brushing his fingertips over Dillon’s nipples.

Dillon moaned ever so lightly, feeling his nipples harden. When the heat of Dave’s mouth engulfed Dillon’s left nipple, Dillon cried out. It had been a long time since he had been touched and his body was in a frenzy, wanting to enjoy itself again.

Unable to stop himself, he found himself imagining that it was Seth he was touching, Seth he was kissing. In his mind, the man with him became Seth, Seth’s body, Seth’s mouth.

Seth guided Dillon down to lay upon the bed. Then Dillon felt Seth move over him. Their mouths met for a long, tongue-thrusting kiss before Seth pulled back.

Dillon ran his hands down Seth’s back, kneading the muscles he felt there. Fumbling a bit, he moved his mouth over Seth’s face and down his neck, sucking and nibbling as he went. The light coating of hair on Seth’s back was slightly rough against Dillon’s palms. He tugged lightly on it as he kissed a spot in the middle of Seth’s chest.

Next, Dillon felt Seth’s hand move down his stomach. When Seth’s fingers wrapped around Dillon’s cock, Dillon couldn’t stop himself from thrusting his hips up.

Seth sat up a rhythm designed to drive Dillon crazy. He would stroke him hard and fast and then suddenly slow down, until Dillon was rotating his hips in silent plea, then he’d speed up again. Seth did this over and over again to Dillon, whose body was overloading on pleasure.

Then Seth moved around and Dillon realized that they were in a 69 position. Dillon raised his head and sniffed, savoring the aroma of Seth’s arousal. Extending his tongue, he ran it up Seth’s cock to the very head. Then he sucked on that ultra sensitive spot on the bottom side of Seth’s cock, where the head curved inward.

Seth cried out and stroked Dillon’s cock faster, his other hand playing with Dillon’s balls. Dillon longed to feel Seth’s mouth on his cock, but before he could express that desire it happened. Seth’s mouth ran down Dillon’s cock, taking it deep.

Dillon responded by laving Seth’s cock with his tongue, running it in a swirling pattern over every inch of skin. Using his lips to nip at the skin of Seth’s cock, he then ran his mouth up to the head. He sucked it into his mouth, running his lips up and down the length of it. Seth’s slightly sour pre-cum trickled over Dillon’s tongue and he rolled it around in his mouth before swallowing it down.

The motions of Dillon’s tongue had Seth moaning as he stroked Dillon’s balls and cock. He cupped Dillon’s balls, tugging on them lightly as he twisted his mouth on Dillon’s cock.

The cock in Dillon’s mouth began to jerk, expanding and contracting. Dillon sensed that Seth was close to cumming and pulled back slightly. He gentled his suckling until Seth calmed a bit again, then moved his mouth back down Seth’s cock.

His questing hands were running up and down Seth’s back and over his ass. He pulled Seth’s ass cheeks apart and ran a finger around Seth’s hole, pushing lightly at it.

Dillon felt Seth’s weight shift slightly and then heard a drawer being pulled open. There was the sound of some fumbling before Dillon felt Seth press a tube into his hand. Unscrewing the cap, Dillon squeezed some lube onto his fingers before moving them back to Seth’s ass.

Slowly, he pressed a finger into Seth’s ass, rotating it slightly as he did so. He continued to move his mouth up and down Seth’s cock, mimicking the rhythm with his finger in Seth’s ass. Once he sensed that Seth was ready for it, Dillon pushed another finger in.

Soon Seth was rocking his body back and forth over Dillon, driving his ass down onto Dillon’s fingers. Dillon increased the sucking pressure of his mouth, racing it up and down Seth’s cock. His fingers were moving, searching for the pleasure button that was Seth’s prostrate. Finding it, he rubbed it vigorously.

At the same time, his hips were twitching as Seth skillfully stroked his cock. He had been close several times, but Seth had slowed down each time. Now, neither of them was holding back as they raced toward completion.

As Dillon’s balls drew up against his body, he thrust his hips up. Crying out around Seth’s cock, his cock expanded with the cum rushing up into it. Seth drew back slightly as Dillon’s cock exploded, driving his own cock deeper into Dillon’s mouth.

Dillon’s body shook again and again as cum rushed from him, arching up and out. He sucked furiously on Seth’s cock, his fingers pistoning Seth’s ass as he rode the waves of his climax.

Just as Dillon’s breath began to calm, Seth groaned and pushed his cock deeper yet into Dillon’s mouth. Dillon took a quick breath a moment before he felt the first load of cum escape Seth’s cock. He swallowed it down as Seth delivered a second, and then a third load. He swallowed as much as he could, but felt some of it escaping to trickle out of the corners of his mouth.

Pulling back, he ran his tongue up and down Seth’s cock, trying to clean off all the cum. He couldn’t see what he was doing, so he relied on his thoroughness to get the job done.

Seth groaned and fell to one side off Dillon. They lay there, not touching, letting their breathing quiet and their heart rates slow. Finally, Dillon began to shiver slightly, his cooling muscles demanding more heat than he was receiving in the chilly room. 

"Here, Dillon, use this blanket." Dave’s voice intruded into Dillon’s fantasy world, ripping him from the illusion that it had been Seth next to him. 

The reality of what he had just done came crashing down on Dillon. He had gone to bed with one man, while in love with another. He had used Dave and betrayed both him and Seth. It didn’t matter that Seth didn’t know or care about how Dillon felt, it was still a betrayal.

He began to shake, his emotions running ragged through his body. He moved onto his side, curling up, his arms going around himself as if he could hold in all that he was feeling. He buried his face in the pillow, but it was too much. A muffled sob escaped to float in the air.

Then a dam broke. Dillon shook with sobs, the bed creaking more now than it had just moments before. His whole body clenched and spasmed as his anguish came pouring out of him.

Dillon felt Dave’s hands on his back, rubbing, trying to soothe. It just hurt Dillon even more. Dave was a good man, a good friend, and now he was unaware of how badly he had been used.

Feeling himself being lifted slightly, Dillon tried to struggle. He tried to pull back, to curl in on himself. Dave wouldn’t let him. He murmured comforting words in Dillon’s ear as he rocked him.

The flood eventually ended. Dillon’s tears slowed and he found himself hiccuping slightly as he struggled to regain his composure. His face was pressed into Dave’s soaked chest hair and his arms were wrapped around Dave’s waist.

"I’m sorry I can’t be him," Dave’s soft words startled Dillon. "If I could make him love you, I would. If I could change places with him now so that he was here in this bed with you, I’d do it."

"W-what do you mean?" Dillon asked, sniffing a bit.

"I knew the instant I saw you two together. How could I not? You constantly had your face turned toward him, even when you were talking to someone else. Your face lights up every time he speaks, even if he’s just saying good night to someone else."

"But, if you knew, then why . . ."

"Why did I bring you back here? Because you needed to come back here. You needed to let go, to discover that you can still please a man in bed. 

"Oh, I won’t deny that it was partially my being selfish. You’re damn good in bed. You always have been. I would have jumped at the chance to spend this time with you no matter what the circumstances.

"Having said that, I also wanted a chance to help a friend. You’ve proven something to yourself tonight. You’ll realize what once you take the time to sit down and think about it."

"I don’t need to think about it," Dillon replied. "I know what you’re talking about and I know what I have to do about it."

**

The night fell silent as Dave turned off the car engine. Dillon reached for the door handle with one hand, Dave’s arm with the other. "Don’t walk me to the door. I need to do this on my own, and it starts here."

"Are you sure Dillon? I mean, I know it’s insensitive of me to put it this way, but you’re blind, man. How will you get there?"

"Seth has been trying to teach me independence again." Dillon’s voice was slightly choked when he said Seth’s name, but other than that his tone was calm and low. "Well, I’m learning the lesson. I need to do all this on my own."

"Ok, but if you need me, you know how to reach me."

Dillon nodded and then carefully moved out of the car. He inched his feet forward, his hand on the hood of the car, guiding him to the front of it.

He should have brought the collapsible cane that he had bought through his doctor. If he had thought of it, he would have. But he hadn’t thought of it. He wasn’t used to having to remember stuff like that. Instead, he’d have to use the orthopedic cane that he relied on for support as a substitute.

Once he reached the front of the car, he turned to his right and cautiously proceeded forward. Soon, his cane sank down into grass instead of hitting concrete. That was his clue to backtrack slightly and turn to the left. 

Every couple of steps he would stop and extend his cane out to the side. Once it landed on concrete, he turned to the right again.

The path curved slightly to the left. Dillon hugged the outer curve so that he could tell if he was straying from it. He walked carefully, not wanting to run into the low steps leading up to his front porch.

Finally his cane lightly bumped against a vertical surface. Counting three steps, he climbed the stairs. He then moved forward another three steps and reached out to pull open the screen door.

Before he could retrieve his key from his pocket, the front door was wrenched open. "Where the hell have you been?" Seth’s voice barked out at him.

**

"I went out to a club with my friends. You knew that." 

Dillon was seated on the couch in the living room. He could hear Seth pacing back and forth in front of him. Seth was furious at him for some reason, and Dillon had no idea why.

"Yes, I knew that," Seth replied. "I also know that Fantasia closes at 2 a.m., just like all the other clubs and bars in the area. So you want to tell me why you’re not getting home until after four?"

"Since when are you my parent?" Dillon demanded. "And how did you know I was going to Fantasia? I don’t remember mentioning it to you."

There was a long pause before Seth replied. "I’m not stupid Dillon. I know you’re gay and I know Fantasia is the most popular gay club is around. Add to that the fact that Kickback was supposed to be there this weekend and I don’t see why you’d go anyplace else."

Dillon held himself very still. Seth knew. How did Seth know? It didn’t matter that Dillon had been preparing to tell him that and so much more. Just the fact that Seth already knew was enough to make him feel like the night was folding in on him, squeezing him, holding him immobile.

"How . . .?"

"Like I said, I’m not stupid. It was obvious . . ."

"Obvious, huh? Really? Well, what else is obvious?"

"What are you talking about?" Seth demanded, a note of impatience in his voice.

"Well, obviously, it’s obvious that I’m gay. What else is obvious about me? Is it obvious that I want you so bad that I tremble every time you’re around? Or no, I bet it’s even more than that! I bet it’s obvious that I’m in love with you!" Dillon couldn’t seem to stop himself. Seth had known all along, had known and said nothing. 

For all Dillon knew, Seth might have been laughing at him, laughing at the blind guy who was too stupid to see what was in front of him. Or worse, Seth might have spent this time pitying him. Dillon would take laughter and ridicule over pity any day.

"Well, let’s cover one more obvious point and be done with it. It’s obvious that I don’t need you anymore. The doctor says I can go down to PT one time a day now and I’m sure with Nurse Sterning’s help I’ll have no problem making it to a clinic and back again.

"So, Seth you’re fired. Take yourself, your equipment, and your obvious observations and get the hell out of my house!"



My Life is You Ch. 07



ONCE AGAIN I HAVE TO INSERT A WARNING IN THIS CHAPTER. NO SEX IN THIS ONE. SORRY TO THOSE OF YOU WHO ONLY WANT THAT. TO THE READERS THAT HAVE BEEN SO INCREDIBLY SUPPORTIVE OF ME, THANK YOU!



Seth sat in his living room, reading a file on Alyxandria Mallon. She was a 22-year-old woman who had been injured while snowboarding. Her back was broken in two places, but luckily her spinal column was not damaged.

Tomorrow, Seth would move into Miss Mallon’s house. Her father, who was quite well off and very protective of his daughter, had delayed her starting therapy because he hadn’t met any therapists he’d liked.

That had changed once Seth interviewed for the position. While Seth found Mr. Mallon overbearing and rude, Mr. Mallon apparently believed Seth to be the man that would be best for his little girl.

Seth knew he had a lot of work to do with Miss Mallon. She should have started therapy almost a month ago, which meant her recovery was already well behind schedule. Back injuries were tricky enough without being slow out of the starting gate.

He should have been totally focused on Alyxandria Mallon’s injury and developing a program that was right for her. Every injury, every person, demanded specialization. Seth excelled at finding ways to help people that worked with that person’s personality and challenges, but only if he concentrated on the task at hand.

So, here he sat, reading everything and comprehending nothing. He wasn’t taking notes or planning exercises, like he normally would be.

Sighing in disgust, he closed the file and threw it onto the coffee table. He scrubbed his hands over his face, the three-day growth of beard on his cheeks and neck making a raspy sound against the skin of his hands.

If he were honest with himself, he would admit that he hadn’t given his full attention to anything since the night a week ago that Dillon had fired him. He hadn’t been working out or helping others. He hadn’t even been eating right. All he had been doing was thinking about Dillon and trying to figure out how things had gone so horribly wrong.

Somehow, Dillon had misinterpreted everything he wanted to say before he even got a chance to say it. He had majorly overreacted to the comment about it being obvious he was gay. Maybe if Seth had explained he’d seen Dillon’s collection of gay porn, Dillon would have been more understanding. Of course, Dillon hadn’t given him the chance to explain that.

Now, Seth was kicking himself for not forcing Dillon to listen to him. He should have insisted that Dillon calm down and listen. He should have refused to leave until they had sat down and figured everything out.

But like an idiot he hadn’t done that. Instead, he’d turned and gone to his room, where he’d packed up all his things. When he’d walked out the front door, he’d closed it very quietly behind him, knowing that he’d never be coming back.

On Monday morning he’d arranged for his therapist equipment to be picked up and delivered to his house. Now, it all sat in his garage, waiting for transport to the home of Alyxandria Mallon.

Dillon loved him. Seth groaned. When had that happened? How had he missed it? That revelation had totally shocked Seth. It was the last thing he had expected to hear from Dillon, especially in the middle of an argument. The words had rang in his ears long after they were said.

And did he love Dillon? Seth couldn’t deny he was attracted to Dillon. He’d been attracted to Dillon the first time they’d met. Seth’s lips curled in a wry smile. Dillon didn’t remember the first time they’d met. As far as he’d been concerned, he hadn’t known Seth until the day Seth had shown up at his house, ready to take on the job of being his therapist.

Ironic wasn’t it? Dillon had been so adverse to the idea of getting to know Seth that he didn’t even remember the week they’d shared a room in the hospital. Yet now, he was in love with Seth.

Seth had been blown away by Dillon the first time he’d seen him. Dillon had looked so lost and alone, so scared of what was to come. No one had come to visit Dillon and Seth had wondered if Dillon was truly alone in the world.

He hadn’t succeeded, but he’d tried very hard to draw Dillon out. He’d talked more than he ever had before, chattering away about anything and everything that had come to mind. His rambling dialogues had only seemed to push Dillon farther into his shell, however, and finally he had given up.

He did remember the dreams Dillon used to have at night while in the hospital. Seth didn’t know exactly what they were about, but he’d been able to tell that Dillon had lost someone close to him. Dillon would cry in his sleep, begging someone not to leave, to stay, to not take their love away.

At the time, Seth had believed Dillon was talking about someone who had died in the same car accident that had injured Dillon. Now he knew the truth, that Dillon had been crying out for Brad not to leave him.

Seth took a deep breath, his hands clenching into fists. Every time he thought about Brad, he got angry enough to spit nails. The man was so damn selfish! Dillon had needed him, but he hadn’t thought of that. All he’d thought about was his own needs.


But am I any better? Seth asked himself. 

Instead of acknowledging Dillon’s love, he had just walked away. Of course, Dillon had kicked him out first, but that was beside the point. He’d left when he could have refused to. He could have stayed and fought to explain himself.

Now, though, he couldn’t go back. Dillon had been abandoned so many times; he wouldn’t want to have anything to do with the latest man to do it to him.

His shoulders shaking, Seth crumpled in on himself. He had just realized that he did love Dillon and that by not letting Dillon know, he’d lost him.

**

Dillon sat in his room, his head leaning back against the wall behind him. The window was thrown open and he was seated upon the window seat.

From the sidewalk below him, he could hear the playful growling of Bandy, the fox terrier that belonged to the kids that lived next door. He was pretty sure that a spirited game of tug-of-war would be in progress between Bandy and his youthful masters.

More and more lately, Dillon found himself wishing that he had a backyard and a deck. He would love to have the chance to sit outside whenever he wanted and feel the sun on his face.

Spring was here. It had arrived the day he and Seth had gone to the park and it had decided to stay, instead of just visiting and then leaving again like it sometimes did. Dillon had always loved spring and the chance to have fun outside.

Though none of them had mentioned it to him, Dillon knew his friends would have started up the informal Ultimate Frisbee League they had created four years ago. They’d be meeting every Tuesday after work to play.

Dillon wondered who had taken his place this year. The teams had been evenly divided last year, with four men to each team. It wasn’t fair to have four against three, so they must have found another player.

Maybe Brad had a new boyfriend and he’d been invited to join in. The thought hurt, but Dillon knew it was possible. As one of the founders of the game, Brad would still be playing and probably had found Dillon’s replacement.

Spring was a time for rebirth, at least according to all the poems. So why didn’t he feel renewed? When all was said and done, he should be feeling pretty good about himself. He was walking, his new therapist said he was doing very well for a man who had injured his knee so badly.

Of course the fact that he had a new therapist might be part of it. He missed Seth, wanted Seth back in his life. The woman who was helping him now was nice enough, but she didn’t have the personality or sense of humor that Seth had. Nor did she understand him the way Seth did. I want Seth back, he wailed in the depths of his heart.

Not that it was possible. Even if Seth were gay, which Dillon knew he wasn’t, there was no way Seth would ever forgive him for being so rude. What had come over him? He hadn’t allowed Seth to get a word in edgewise.

Granted, Seth had revealed that he’d been aware of the fact that Dillon was gay, but that didn’t mean Seth had a problem with it. So Seth hadn’t said anything, so what? Could Dillon really expect Seth to bring it up in the conversation? What would he have said? "Great, bend your knee a little farther now. By the way, I know you like to take it up the ass and that’s totally cool. Now extend that knee." Dillon just didn’t see them having a conversation like that.

**

Sweat ran down Dillon’s nose and dripped onto the floor as he struggled to keep his balance. His arms were spread wide and once again his right foot was hooked over his left leg. This time, however, he had a thick pillow placed directly beneath his right knee. With each bend of his arms, his knee sank onto the pillow for a brief moment.

Reaching the fiftieth push-up, he gratefully sank down and strained back up for the last time. Once done, he allowed himself to sink down onto the floor, the pillow cushioning his knee. The carpet was damp where his head was, having been watered by the sweat running off him.

After a moment’s rest, he rolled over onto his back. Bending his knees so that his feet rested on the floor, he cupped his hands in loose fists next to, but not touching, his ears. Sucking in a breath, he began to do crunches, twisting at the top of each motion.

Losing himself in the motion, he pushed hard. He added an extra twist at the top of each crunch in order to make the exercise more difficult. Soon, his abdominal muscles began to ache, but he just kept going. Only when there was no way he could lift his upper body from the floor again did he stop.

Dillon knew he shouldn’t be pushing this hard, that he would regret it the next day, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Only when his body was burning from the pain of physical exertion did his heart take a break from burning with unrequited love.

A month had gone by since he had kicked Seth out of his life, but his heart hurt as much today as it did the day it happened. More so, in some ways. 

His friends were wonderful people. They did their best to treat him the same as they had before the accident, but in some ways that just wasn’t possible. He couldn’t play football or Ultimate Frisbee with them and golfing was definitely out of the question. Even going to the movies was a changed experience since he spent most of the movie asking what was happening.

That didn’t stop them from trying at first, though. Jeremy, especially, had been determined to find new ways to spend time with him. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Jeremy was a family man/homemaker at heart. Lately, Jeremy and the others hadn’t been coming around anymore. In fact, Dillon couldn’t remember the last time he had heard the phone ring. He had thought about calling them, but if they were uncomfortable with him, he didn’t want to force himself upon them.

Soon, he would have to find a way to begin his life again. He’d obtained a huge settlement from the guy who had caused the accident, enough that he’d never have to work again, but he couldn’t stand being idle for the rest of his life. He was used to being busy, to having a purpose to his days. Since the accident, his purpose had been to learn to walk, to learn to live. Well, he was succeeding. What was next?

Dillon knew one thing that he wanted to start as soon as possible: he wanted to learn to read. He missed reading, missed losing himself in a book. Well, that could be solved. He had signed up to take a class in Braille twice a week and soon he’d be on the way to enjoying the imaginations of others.

**

"Come on, Sprite, you can do it. Your fingers are so close. Just a bit more and you’ll be touching those toes!"

Seth stood to the side of Alyxandria Mallon and watched her struggle. Alyxandria, or Alyx as her friends called her, had become Sprite in his mind. She was a tiny woman with a lithe body, reminding him of a wood sprite. In addition, she was bubbly, effervescent, and had a bit of a tang to her. Yep, she was definitely Sprite!

Sprite didn’t let anything get her down. Or, at least, she never stayed down long. Emotionally, she bounced back with alacrity no matter what was thrown at her.

She wasn’t bouncing back from her injury that quickly, though. The snowboarding accident had resulted in her back being broken in two places, but it had also been responsible for some of the muscles being pierced and/or severed by bone fragments. This just wasn’t something you could quickly recover from.

Seth had to admit that didn’t keep Sprite from trying. She was determined to touch those toes of hers by the end of the session and since Seth knew how important a milestone it would be for her, he was doing his best to give her all the encouragement and support she needed.

He could almost see her gathering herself mentally and emotionally for one final stretch, a last ditch attempt. He smiled, knowing she was going to make it. And when her fingertips brushed the tops of her toes, if only for a second, he cheered aloud.

Sprite slowly straightened back up, her face red with exertion but covered with a huge grin. Placing her hands on the top of the massage table, she used it for support as she rested.

It was times like these that Seth loved being a physical therapist. It was hard, sweaty work. Often, you got cussed out and verbally abused by those you were trying to help. You spent time causing people even more pain than they had already been through. But who cared when you were rewarded with a smile and a look of accomplishment like that?

Seth stepped forward and carefully helped Sprite up onto the massage table. Her breathing was still heightened and her muscles still trembling. He turned to place the bottle of massage oil in the warmer and grab a towel she could wrap around herself.

As he did so, he heard a rustling sound. When he turned back, it was to the sight of Sprite very calmly stripping herself. She had already removed her top and was now trying to divest herself of her sweatpants. Once she was done, she calmly sat there in her panties and sports bra.

"Umm, Sprite, don’t you want a towel or covering or something?"

"Why?" Sprite asked. "It’s not like I have anything you or anyone who has seen a movie hasn’t seen. Besides, you’re not interested in what I have anyway. I might be worried if I were a straight male, but since I’m not I think I’m safe."

Seth stared at her in shock. This was the first time that she had made a comment about anything to do with his sexuality. Up until now, while they had joked and teased each other, playing around as they worked, neither of them had said anything remotely personal.

Sprite burst out laughing. "Oh, Seth, Hon, I wish you could see your face!" she exclaimed, her shoulders shaking in mirth. "I’ll only say this. Your bedroom is next to mine and if you want to keep your homosexuality a secret, don’t shout out Dillon’s name during the middle of your wet dreams!"

Feeling red creep into his cheeks, Seth thankfully turned toward the warmer as it buzzed. "How do you know Dillon isn’t a woman? That’s a name that can be either."

"True," Sprite answered, turning gingerly over onto her stomach. "But I can’t imagine you telling a woman that you love her cock."

Seth’s hand spasmed on the bottle of oil he had just opened and some shot out, spraying onto the floor. That was it! His cheeks felt so hot he expected them to burst into flames at any moment!

**

Dillon carefully buttoned the last button on his shirt. Then, he ran his hands slowly up the placat, making sure that each button was inserted into its matching hole. He couldn’t believe how complicated buttoning his own shirt was now that he couldn’t tell if he was doing it right.

Once he was satisfied, he turned and carefully made his way into the bathroom adjoining his bedroom. His brush was placed neatly to the left of the counter where he was able to find it.

Prior to the accident, he hadn’t been a slob, but he hadn’t been a neat freak either. Things were put away or sitting neatly out, but not always in the same place. Recently, though, he had learned how much easier his life could be made if things were replaced exactly where they belonged.

Running the brush through his hair, he attempted to get it neat. It was difficult to tell, but once it felt to him like his hair was not standing on end, he figured that would be good enough.

He was taking more care with his appearance tonight than he had in a long time. Other than doctor’s appointments and time spent with his friends, he hadn’t been going out at all. Tonight, however, he started his Braille classes and he wanted to look his best since he would be meeting new people.

Then something hit him. It was a Braille class. The majority of people in it were bound to be blind! They weren’t going to care what he looked like! Dillon smiled sheepishly and grabbing his cane, carefully made his way toward the door.

Nurse Sterning was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Once she saw him coming, she announced that she was going out to start the car. Dillon felt that was a little premature since he still had to make it down the stairs, but he didn’t argue.

Reaching the lower landing, he counted the steps to take him to the hall table. His questing fingers quickly found his wallet and house keys. Once he was ready, he moved forward and opened the screen door. Locking the door behind him, he made his way out into the early evening air.

Nurse Sterning’s car was softly chugging away. It was accompanied by the sound of the grasshoppers and cicadas, newly awoken, rubbing their legs together. As Dillon maneuvered his way down the path toward the car, he heard a mosquito buzzing near his ear and impatiently swatted it away.

Grasping the door handle of the old Chevy Caprice that Nurse Sterning drove, Dillon moved to sit in the car. As usual, he knocked himself on the head. He tried so hard not to do that, but somehow he managed it every time. Of course, it would be easier if Nurse Sterning would watch him slide into the car like Seth used to do and let him know if he was too high or low. Unfortunately, Nurse Sterning wasn’t that concerned with his welfare.

The community center where Dillon’s class was being held wasn’t far from Dillon’s house. The trip there was made in silence other than the evangelist preaching on the radio. After riding in Nurse Sterning’s car several times, he had been tempted to ask if there was an all-evangelical radio station in the area, since he couldn’t remember her ever having anything else on.

Personally, Dillon didn’t get into evangelists. He didn’t enjoy being told that he was a sinner just because he existed and he really didn’t agree that he could buy redemption by sending some stranger 40% of his earnings every month.

That didn’t mean Dillon felt all evangelists should be stopped from preaching. He figured the institution continued to survive because of the few truly genuine people, not because of the shysters.

Upon arriving at the community center, Nurse Sterning parked the car and led Dillon into the building. She walked a bit faster than he was comfortable with and failed to tell him when to step up onto the sidewalk, so he ended up stumbling a bit as he entered the building, the door catching him on the back of his heels as it swung shut.

Nurse Sterning stopped for a moment, before turning to the left and leading him down the hall. Turning to the right, she proceeded through a doorway, Dillon’s shoulder hitting the doorjamb.

Dillon found himself seated at a table. He wasn’t sure if it was at the front or the back of the room, but he could tell that there were others sitting around the table as well. Nurse Sterning informed him she would be back in two hours and then left.




My Life is You Ch. 07



The silence was uncomfortable. Dillon didn’t know how many people were there, but none of them were speaking. Occasionally, there was an uncomfortable cough or the sound of rustling as someone squirmed in his seat, but other than that the room was still.

The tapping of a cane against the doorjamb broke the quiet. Slow deliberate footsteps told of a new person entering the room. Whoever it was laid something heavy down on a desk or table. Dillon heard the quiet snick of briefcase locks being opened. The class teacher must have arrived.

"I always find it interesting that on the first day of class, no one is ever talking to each other," a tenor voice with an eastern accent said. "The reason I say this is because I also teach this class for non-blind students and on the first day of class they’re always talking up a storm, getting to know each other.

"As blind people, for some reason we enter a room and isolate ourselves. We stand or sit there and say nothing, do nothing. It’s like there’s this thought going through our heads: if I don’t attract any attention, no one will notice I’m different.

"Well, I’m here to tell you, you are different. You’re blind and there’s no going back. It just doesn’t work that way. You can, however go forward and continue to have a life very similar to the one you had before you lost your sight.

"Braille is a huge tool in helping you to enter the world again. It’s going to let you communicate effectively, not only with other people, but also with yourself. It’s going to show you that you can walk into a room again and get to know those around you without someone else making the introductions."

Dillon squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. That was exactly what he had been doing; he’d been waiting for someone to let him know who the other people in the room were. It hadn’t occurred to him that prior to the accident, he would have taken care of that himself.

"First, though, we’re going to have to deal with a common misconception. Braille does not make you blind. You’re already blind, so Braille isn’t changing that. 

"Second, Braille will not make you more noticeable as a blind person. In fact, it will decrease that noticeabiltiy since when most people look at you, all they’ll see is someone reading a book.

"Finally, Braille is not a whole new language. If you were literate before, than you are now. You’ll still be using the same letters, the same words, the same language; the letters will just be formed differently. Once you learn to think of an 'E' as two diagonal dots instead of four lines, you’ll be well on your way to reading Shakespeare or Tom Clancy, whichever you prefer.

"Now, placed in the middle of each table are some large boards. I want everyone to grab one and we’ll begin our lesson."

**

Dillon placed the last plastic egg in his final egg carton. Skimming his fingers over the cartons, he compared the letters he had made with the ones on the primer he had been given at the beginning of class. A smile spread across his face as he confirmed that he had just spelled his name in Braille.

"Everyone should be finished now, so I’m going to go around and meet everyone. This is why I didn’t let any of you tell me your names at the beginning of the class. I wanted you to use Braille to introduce yourselves to me."

Dillon heard the tapping of a cane and then the instructor said, "Hello Maria, it’s nice to meet you. Let me introduce myself, but please don’t say my name aloud." There was a brief silence before a woman responded, "Hello, it’s nice to meet you too."

Once again the cane briefly tapped its way across the floor and another person introduced himself to the instructor. This continued until Dillon sensed the man standing next to him.

"Ah, Dillon, it’s nice to meet you as well. You are the last student, so once you read my name, please feel free to call me by it."

Dillon nervously reached out and ran his hand over the stiff cardstock that the instructor held. He used his fingers to feel the raised dots several times before being sure he had the right name. "It’s nice to meet you too, Paul."

**

The class was over and people were slowly standing up. The sound of many canes tapping on the floor gave off an irregular beat as the students worked their way toward the door, being careful not to run into anyone or anything.

Dillon hesitated when out in the corridor. Nurse Sterning hadn’t identified herself and he didn’t remember how many steps down the hall he would have to go before reaching the main hallway.

There was a babble of voices as family members and caretakers claimed their charges. Some of the students were talking excitedly about all they had learned, while others were more subdued.

Dillon would have fallen into the former category, but he had no one to share his exuberance with. So instead he waited for Nurse Sterning to arrive, being careful to stay back against the wall, out of the way of the crowd.

The hallway quickly cleared, the last of the people headed for home. Still he waited. He was sure Nurse Sterning had said she’d be back at the end of the class. Where could she be?

"Who’s still here?" Paul’s voice questioned.

"It’s Dillon," Dillon replied. "How did you know I was here?"

"I could hear you breathing. Isn’t anyone coming for you?"

"Yes, I have a live-in nurse that should be here any moment. I don’t know why she’s running late."

"Maybe she’s waiting for you at the front door," Paul said, moving to stand next to Dillon. "Why don’t we go up there?"

"I take it you know how to get there," Dillon said.

"Oh yes, I’ve taught this class in this classroom for four years now," Paul laughed. "I could tell you exactly how many steps to any place in this building, including both bathrooms, the cafeteria, the front door, all the fire exits, and my office."

"I think you have it covered!"

"Here, take my arm. You don’t have anything against the blind leading the blind, do you?"

**

A heavy book was spread open on Dillon’s lap. His fingers were running slowly over one of the pages. Dillon laughed as he read the first sentence, "See Spot Run." Well, I guess I have to start somewhere, he said to himself.

The doorbell rang just as Dillon was turning to the next page. He put the book aside and grabbed his cane. Standing, he moved out of his bedroom and into the hall. Before he could reach the upper landing of the stairs, he heard the front door close and footsteps moving away from it.

"Who was there?" he called out. 

"Just girl scouts selling cookies," Nurse Sterning replied before walking back to the kitchen.

"Oh," Dillon said, turning to go back into his room. He had been hoping for company. It had been a while since any of his friends had visited and he actually wanted to show off his reading, even if it was children’s book about a dog.

**

"It’s great that Dillon is getting out more," Dave said to Jeremy as they turned away from Dillon’s front door. "Still, it would have been nice if he had let us know he couldn’t come today instead of just skipping out on us."

"Well, I never actually spoke with Dillon," Jeremy reminded Dave as they climbed back into the car. "I just left a message with Nurse Sterning that we wanted to take him to the Sting concert tonight and that he should call if he couldn’t go. Maybe something got screwed up and he thought he was only supposed to call if he was coming."

"I suppose that’s possible," Dave admitted as he started the car. "You think Scott will want the extra ticket?"



My Life is You Ch. 08



I TRULY WANT TO THANK EVERYONE WHO HAS BEEN SO WONDERFUL ABOUT GIVING ME FEEDBACK. IT’S NICE KNOWING THAT YOU ARE AS INTERESTED IN DILLON AND SETH’S STORY AS I AM IN TELLING IT.

OK: STANDARD WARNING. THIS IS A NON-SEX CHAPTER. THOSE TEND TO HAPPEN WITH ME. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! LOL



Dillon felt a huge sense of accomplishment as he made his way down the hallway of the community college. He had just taken his last Braille class. While he wasn’t truly fluent in Braille yet, he couldn’t wait to buy his first book and escape into it.

That was especially true since reading would be the only form of escape he’d be getting any time soon. His physical therapy was going really well and he was down to just four visits a week. He still did all the exercises he was supposed to do on his own each day plus the ones that Seth had taught him in order to improve the rest of his body, but he just wasn’t losing himself in it like he used to.

It also seemed that his friends really had given up on him. The phone no longer rang and none of them had come to visit him in over a month. That hurt a lot, and part of him wanted to confront them and ask what was up. He couldn’t do it, though. He knew his friends. They never did anything without reason. So, they’d had their reasons and he couldn’t argue that.

Maybe if he’d made some new friends in his class he wouldn’t be so let down. He had been hoping for just that. What he had discovered, though, was that everyone was too busy dealing with the major changes in their lives to worry about adding any new elements.

He couldn’t blame them for that. Hell, he spent a lot of time analyzing all that was going on around him himself. Why should he be upset with them for doing the same?

Still, it would be nice to be walking down the hall with someone now. He remembered high school and college days when it had seemed so easy to make friends. It seemed like people had always surrounded him as he went from class to class.

Forty-five, Forty-six, Forty-seven, Forty-eight, Forty-nine. Dillon turned to the right and moved forward. Reaching out on the seventh step, he wrapped his hand around the handle of the door and pulled it open. Warm night air hit him in the face as he stepped outside.

The soft putt-putt of a car engine caught his attention. Nurse Sterning was waiting for him just as she did each night. Of course, from now on there would be no need for her to wait because he had just graduated!

**

Dillon made his way down the stairs. Reaching the landing, he turned to the right. As he walked back toward the kitchen, he heard the television.

Nurse Sterning must be watching one of those Soap Operas that are on around this time each day, he thought to himself. Based on the argument that was currently being enacted, someone had just found out who was the real father of a baby.

Dillon had never understood how the people on soap operas could be so promiscuous and the worst that ever happened to them was they got pregnant by the wrong person. If these shows were supposed to be realistic, why did no one ever contract AIDS or any other STD?

Just as he walked into the kitchen, the phone rang. Nurse Sterning rose, the chair she had been sitting in scraping against the tile floor.

"Marshall residence."

Dillon listened eagerly. Hopefully, it would be one of his friends calling. He was dying to get out of the house.

"No, I’m sorry." Nurse Sterning said. There was a slight pause as she listened to the person on the other end of the line. "Yes, I will. Thank you. Good-bye."

Dillon’s shoulders slumped as he heard Nurse Sterning put the phone back in its cradle. "Who was that?" he asked, some small bit of hope still clinging to him.

"Oh, just some telemarketer," she replied in a dismissive tone. "I promised to keep him in mind if I ever decide to join a vacation club."

"I haven’t missed any calls, have I?" Dillon asked.

"Why, no," Nurse Sterning said. "I would have told you if someone had called for you while you were unable to come to the phone. Were you expecting a call from someone?"

"No, not really," Dillon moved forward and lowered himself into a chair. "After all, hoping for a call and expecting a call are two different things, aren’t they?"

"Well, there’s no arguing the truth," Nurse Sterning said in a brisk tone. "I’ll tell you this though. If you’re hoping for those friends of yours to call, don’t hold your breath. I’ve seen it time and again.

"At first people make an effort. They tell themselves that they won’t be one of those people to drop a friend just because that friend has been seriously injured. They say, "We’ll never grow apart," and they even mean it at the time.

"But the truth is, it takes more effort to be friends with someone who is different than most people are willing to put in. After time, they realize it. The calls stop, the outings end. When all is said and done, the injured or sick friend is left alone."

"My friends aren’t like that," Dillon protested.

"Let’s hope not, but remember what I said. I don’t say it to hurt you. I just don’t want you to be disappointed when you find that all you have left is me."

**

Belinda and Seth strolled along a park path. Just twenty feet away, Sprite was sitting on a blanket, talking to Eric. Seth kept a careful eye on her, not wanting her to overdo it and exhaust herself.

A woman jogged past, a golden retriever keeping pace with her. Seth knew it was just an old wife’s tale about people looking like their pets, but both the woman and the dog were healthy specimens with golden blond hair that shone in the sunlight and their strong muscles moved easily as they loped along the path.

"I like her," Belinda said, nodding her head in Sprite’s direction. "She really doesn’t let anything get her down, does she?"

"No," Seth shook his head. "That girl is bubblier than the bubbliest champagne. It’s amazing it’s not annoying as hell."

Belinda smiled. "She’s too sweet to be annoying."

"She’s been good for me," Seth said. "I’ve been kind of down lately, but Sprite never lets you forget how lucky you are."

"You miss him, don’t you?" Belinda asked. Seth had never verbalized how he felt about Dillon, but Belinda was a very smart, very perceptive woman. "Dillon’s his name if I remember correctly."

Seth sighed. "Yes, I miss him, even more than I expected. Considering I expected to miss him a great deal, that’s saying a lot."

"So why don’t you call him or go see him?" Belinda asked, raising her face into the sun. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply and then exhaling slowly. "It’s not like he lives on the other side of the country."

"I doubt he’d want to see or speak to me," Seth replied, shrugging his shoulders. "I made a total ass of myself and really hurt him."

"So what," Belinda shrugged. "If people broke up permanently the first time they really hurt each other, Eric and I wouldn’t be together anymore. What he did to me, I thought I’d never get over it. I did. Dillon can too."

"Yes, but you and Eric were already happily married at the time. Dillon and I have never been together, never had that connection with each other."

"Oh, you and Dillon have a connection," Belinda said, turning to take the left fork of the path. "Neither of you may have ever acknowledged it to the other, but it’s there and you should fight for it."

"We went to a park once, Dillon and I, I mean," Seth said, struggling to put things into the right words. "We didn’t have a picnic or anything. Sprite wanted a picnic, wanted to do something. Dillon and I, we just sat on a bench. I don’t know what he thought about while we were there, never asked him.



"We sat there for quite a while, not saying anything. There were kids playing, parents gossiping, couples talking. Dillon and I, we just sat on a bench."

"Would you rather have been playing or gossiping or talking?" Belinda asked, a curious look on her face.

Seth thought a moment before answering. "That’s the thing. A lot of times, Dillon and I wouldn’t do anything at all. We’d just be around each other.

"I never minded. In fact, I liked it, but what if Dillon didn’t? What if he was bored and too polite to tell me? Or what if during those times he didn’t even notice me?

"I was happy because I was near him. As far as I was concerned, things didn’t get any better than that. But that doesn’t mean Dillon felt the same."

Belinda hooked her arm with Seth’s. "He could have been bored, he could have been thinking, he could have been daydreaming, he could have just been happy to be with you. You don’t know. I only know of one way to find out."

They continued to walk in silence, making a slow circuit of the park. From time to time Sprite’s laughter would float through the air and Seth would smile, but then they’d just go back to walking and Seth would think of Dillon again.

**

Strobe lights cast flickering light over the faces of the people on the dance floor. A smoke machine was giving the area an eerie glow as people gyrated to the beat.

In the middle of the floor, a small space had formed around two of the dancers. They moved together perfectly, seeming to communicate without words. The stronger of the two lifted and supported his partner effortlessly. Their bodies flowed together and apart without any stumbles or missteps.

Their style of dance didn’t exactly fit the music, but no one seemed to mind. They were enjoying themselves and looking good doing it. People could appreciate that and give them the respect they deserved.

Dave stood and watched them for a time before going back to the table where his friends were sitting. The couple was a rarity in a club like this, a man and woman instead of two men. They had drawn Dave’s attention for that reason alone. They had kept it when he had seen who the man was.

"So, what’s the big attraction?" Chandler asked, gesturing toward the dance floor. "Whoever is out there is drawing quite the crowd."

"Yeah, but I’m not sure why," Dave replied.

"Well, either they’re good dancers or they’re getting hot and heavy. Surely you can tell the difference," Scott said as he signaled a waiter. The man, dressed in leather pants and a tight black T-shirt, approached the table. He swept away the dirty glasses and announced he would be back with refills.

"They’re good," Dave admitted. "But you misunderstood what I meant. Everyone could be watching for one of two reasons and I’m not sure which it is since both apply in this case."

"You’re being cryptic, Dave," Chandler pointed out.

Dave smiled. "Sorry, I’m not doing it on purpose. I’m just trying to figure it out. See, people could be watching because they’re good, or because it’s a man and a woman. As in, the only woman in this place tonight."

"A woman? Really?" Jeremy asked, swiveling around in his seat, even though he knew he couldn’t see the dance floor from this table. "I wonder what a woman is doing in here."

"Well, dancing for one," Chandler said, taking a sip of his newly arrived martini.

Jeremy dug his wallet out to pay for the drinks since it was his turn. As he returned it to his pocket, he said, "How many straight couples do you know who come here to go dancing?"

"I’m upset that he’s straight," Dave said, looking down into his beer before taking a large swig.

Jeremy laughed. "That hot, huh?"

"No! Well, yeah, but that’s not it," Dave replied. "I wanted this guy to be gay because I have a friend who would be happier if he were."

"Now you have us intrigued," Scott said. "Who’s the guy and who’s the friend?"

"The guy is Seth, and the friend is Dillon," Dave replied before draining the last of his beer and signaling the waiter to bring more.

**

"Remind me again why we’re here," Seth said, looking around the crowded club.

"We’re here," Nathan responded patiently, "because you’ve practically become a hermit and the only way we could get you to come out with us was by promising not to go to Fantasia or any of the other more mainstream clubs."

"Oh, yeah, that’s right," Seth said, looking back down at the bottle of beer in his hands. "That probably wasn’t very fair of me. After all, this can’t be the most comfortable place for Belinda."

"I don’t think you have to worry about Belinda," Nathan replied. "You know she’s comfortable any place she can dance."

Seth smiled slightly. "True. It’s a good thing Eric likes to dance since Belinda’s read to go dancing almost every night."

"It’s all that gymnastic training the two of you had." Nathan pointed out. "If a man isn’t good at moving his body after spending four hours a day in a gym, five days a week, for almost eighteen years, than that man has to be a natural disaster waiting to happen."

"When you put it that way, it makes me feel like I’ve lived my life in one gym after another," Seth laughed.

"You have," Nathan jibed, leaning back and hooking his arm over the back of the booth. "On the other hand, not only do you have a great body to show for it, but also a better understanding of the impact serious injury has on the active person than just about any therapist I’ve ever met."

Seth blushed. "Thanks, but I’m beginning to think I should have gone for a degree in psychology instead of physical therapy. Maybe than I could at least understand the people around me even if I can’t figure out what’s going on in my own head."

"Well, if you do ever figure any of it out, I, for one, will be extremely impressed. I don’t think I know anyone who has it all figured out."

"Nice to know I’m not the only confused person out there then," Seth said wryly. "I think I’m going to go grab another beer. You want one?"

"Sure, but why don’t you ask the waiter, he’s right over there." Nathan pointed to the waiter standing in front of a table not far from theirs.

Just then the waiter shifted and Seth got a clear view of who was sitting at that table. His eyes widened as he stared at the men at the other table. He had only met them the once, but he wouldn’t forget them ever.

"This is not happening to me," Seth moaned, burying his head in his hands.

"What’s not happening to you?" Nathan asked, sitting forward in his seat.

"I think Dillon’s here," Seth said without looking up.

Nathan looked around the club. "What makes you think that? Did you see him?" He was still scanning the club even though he had no idea what Dillon looked like.

"No," Seth glanced back toward the table he had just looked at before lowering his gaze to his hands again. "I didn’t see Dillon."

"Then why do you think he’s here?" Nathan sounded confused.

"See that table over there?" Seth gestured with his head. Once Nathan nodded, he continued, "Those are his friends. In fact, Jeremy is his best friend. They’re all really tight, sort of like the four of us are."

"Ah, so if they’re around, he’s near by."

"Pretty much."

"Then go talk to him."

Seth gave Nathan a look like he was insane. "He doesn’t want to talk to me. He doesn’t want anything to do with me."

"I don’t buy that for a moment."

Seth made a disparaging sound, causing Nathan to lean forward and grab Seth’s wrist. "No! Listen to me!" he insisted. "If Dillon is truly in love with you, if it’s not the Florence Nightingale Syndrome, then he’s hurting as much as you are, maybe even more. He may have great friends, but they can’t just get rid of his heartache by talking to him. You, on the other hand, can."

Seth thought about that. If he went over there, Dillon might just tell him to go away again. The pain of simply imagining it was staggering. But what if Dillon didn’t do that? What if Dillon actually listened to him this time? Of course, Dillon couldn’t do any listening at all if he didn’t get up and walk over there.

Nodding to Nathan, Seth rose. Realizing he was still holding his beer, he took another drink before setting it down on the table.

As he neared their table, he saw that Jeremy was sitting next to a man he didn’t know. Across from Jeremy were Dave and Carter. The four of them appeared to be deeply involved in an important conversation.

Before it could really register in Seth’s mind that Dillon wasn’t sitting at the table, Dave looked up and spotted him. Their eyes locked and Seth was shocked at the amount of contempt that shone in Dave’s gaze.



My Life is You Ch. 09



FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE READ THIS STORY FROM THE BEGINNING, YOU CAN PROBABLY SKIP THIS PART. SORRY TO MAKE YOU DEAL WITH IT EVERY TIME, BUT AT LEAST I MAKE IT EASY TO SPOT! FOR EVERYONE ELSE, MOST OF MY CHAPTERS DO NOT CONTAIN SEX. THIS IS ONE OF THOSE CHAPTERS. IF YOU READ THIS, I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT. IF YOU DON'T ENJOY IT, AT LEAST I'LL KNOW IT WASN'T' BECAUSE YOU WERE EXPECTING SEX AND WERE DISAPPOINTED NOT TO GET IT. (NO PUN INTENDED) 

Dillon felt as though he was going to expire from inactivity. He knew he was being overly dramatic, but after a week without leaving the house or speaking to another soul besides Nurse Sterning, he felt justified.

His new physical therapist had gone on vacation and unfortunately her clinic hadn't been able to find anyone to replace her. As a result, her patients were just told to keep doing their home exercises and eventually they would be worked back into the schedule once she returned.

Dillon had been incredibly disappointed the day Nurse Sterning informed him of the mix-up. Apparently, the phone had rung while he was running his bath, because he had never heard it. He had come eagerly down the stairs, anxious to get going. When he pulled open the front door and failed to hear Nurse Sterning's car idling in the drive, he had been confused. Nurse Sterning always had the car started and was waiting for him when it was time to go to the clinic.

He'd shut the door and walked back to the kitchen, which had become Nurse Sterning's realm. The spicy scent of the cinnamon tea she preferred had met his nose the moment he'd opened the swinging door to the kitchen.

He'd tried to politely remind her that it was time to leave if they were going to arrive at the clinic in time for his appointment. She'd responded briskly, "We're not going. Your therapist is on vacation and they don't have a substitute for her. You're supposed to do the best you can here at home until they get a replacement or she comes back."

"What?" Dillon had questioned in surprise. "When did this happen?"

"The clinic called about an hour ago. I don't know why you didn't hear the phone."

Dillon had sighed. "I was getting ready to take a bath. The water filling the tub would have kept me from hearing the ringing of the telephone."

He had gone up to his room and sat on the window seat. It was fast becoming his favorite spot in the house. Now, a week later, he hadn't gone downstairs again. Nurse Sterning continued to bring him his meals on a tray, despite his protests that he could eat in the kitchen with her. "It wouldn't be proper," was all she would say whenever he brought it up.

His own bedroom was quickly turning into a prison, one from which he could find no escape. He used the floor to do his workouts and therapy, slept in the bed, sat on the recliner or window seat, and even had a walk-in closet and en suite bathroom.

The day he'd bought this house he'd been ecstatic. He loved owning his own home. Now, though, he wished he were still existing in a cramped apartment with paper-thin walls. Then, at least, he could use the loud exploits of his neighbors as a distraction.

As night fell, a new determination grew inside Dillon. It was Saturday and his friends would be out. He'd find a way to join them. If they were unhappy he was there, he'd be able to tell no matter how hard they tried to hide it and then he could leave. But, at least it would get him out of the house, if only for a short amount of time.

For the first time since the accident, he showered instead of bathing. Previously, he had been scared of slipping in the shower and re-injuring his knee. Now, his recovery was far enough along that he believed it was an acceptable risk in the name of expediency.

After drying himself off, he stood and ran a hand over his body. He had to admit that he was impressed at how effective the exercises Seth had taught him were. Judging by what his fingertips felt, his chest was sculpted and his abs chiseled. Out of curiosity, he clenched his ass cheeks as tightly as he could and then he reached back to feel the result. They might as well have been molded from steel for all the give they had at that moment.

The temptation to linger and play at his back door was great. It had been a long time since his night with Dave and his body was demanding attention. He resisted, however, knowing that if he began to stroke that fire he wouldn't be leaving the house for a long time.

He took care of all the hygienic necessities and then walked into his closet. His clothes were perfectly organized, split into color categories. Seth had helped him arrange them on a rainy Sunday when they couldn't come up with anything else to do.

He started to reach for a basic pair of black slacks, but then hesitated. He hadn't been out in a long time and probably wouldn't go out again for an even longer amount of time. Maybe he should go for something a bit more daring.

He moved to the back of his closet where his one pair of leather pants resided. They were a dark brown and so tight that he'd barely been able to breathe in them before. Now, he didn't weigh as much but his ass was definitely fuller and firmer. When he slipped them on, they molded to his ass cheeks as if made specifically for his new body.

Dillon loved the smooth texture of the leather against his skin. Quickly pairing the pants with a white, silk shirt that had a loose tie at the throat, he grabbed a pair of boots. Luckily, his black boots were taller than his brown ones, so he could still easily tell which he held in his hands.

Upon completing all his preparations, Dillon made his way down the stairs. He slipped his wallet and house key into his pocket before walking back to the kitchen.

Tonight it smelled not only of Nurse Sterning's cinnamon tea, but also of the pot roast and potatoes she had cooked for dinner. The radio was tuned to an evangelical program. The clatter of dishes and splashing sounds told him that she was busy washing the pots and pans she had used earlier.

"Good evening, Nurse Sterning," Dillon said as he walked into the kitchen.

"Good evening, Mr. Marshall, was there something you needed?"

"Actually, yes, if you don't mind," Dillon said. "I wanted to go out and meet up with some of my friends, so I was wondering if you could look up the phone number for a cab company for me."

"Certainly, Mr. Marshall," Nurse Sterning shut off the running water and moved away from the sink. Dillon heard the sound of a drawer being opened and pages flipped.

After a moment, Nurse Sterning announced that she had a cab company on the phone and they wanted to know where he wanted his ride to. Dillon thought a moment, trying to remember which club his friends would be at on a Saturday evening, before saying, "Tell them I want to go to Achin', it's on the corner of Green River and Main."

"Yes, he wants to go to Achin', on the corner of Green River and Main. Approximately how much will that be?"

Dillon's heart sank in that moment. He didn't have any cash! He'd rarely carried it before because just about anything could be taken care of with credit and debit cards. He'd even paid all his bills online ever since his bank had started offering the service for free. Now, there was no way he could go there without taking a taxi, and without cash that wasn't possible.

"You know what, Nurse Sterning, I've changed my mind," Dillon said quickly. "Please tell them to forget about it."

"Yes, Mr. Marshall," Nurse Sterning said. For just a moment, he'd thought she sounded smug, but then he dismissed that thought. There was no reason for her to be pleased by the fact that he wasn't leaving the house. After all, they didn't ever really spend time together. He stayed upstairs, she resided downstairs. They had little contact throughout the day.

Saying a quick thank you and good night, Dillon left the kitchen. Once upstairs, he undressed and carefully replaced his clothes in the closet. He crawled naked into his bed and lay there, waiting for sleep or insanity to take him.

**

Seth considered backing up and walking away. True, Dave had seen him, but obviously that didn't make Seth welcome. The only thing stopping him was the desire to speak with Dillon.

Mentally preparing himself, he took the two final steps toward the table. There, he stopped and opened his mouth. He shut it again, realizing he didn't know how to start.

Dave had visually tracked his movements, but it took the others a moment to notice him. One by one, however, they did. All the eyes at the table came to rest on him.

"Hey, Seth, how are you?" Jeremy asked. The greeting was lukewarm, but Seth snatched at it. It was a rope; he was going to use it.

"Hey Jeremy. I'm okay, well, sort of okay," Seth replied. "I miss working with Dillon. How is he?" The moment the words left his mouth, he couldn't believe he had said them. What on earth was he doing?

A stony silence fell over the table. Finally, Dave spoke. "If you miss him, why did you leave him?"

"I didn't leave him, he kicked me out!" Seth exclaimed, defending himself. "As a physical therapist, I would never leave a patient before he was ready and as a friend I would never desert a friend." 

Everyone at the table shared a glance before Carter spoke. "We're sorry, we believed you had left, not that you were told to leave."

"What did Dillon tell you?" Seth asked. Had Dillon lied about what had happened, made it seem like Seth had deserted him? No! He couldn't believe that of Dillon. He just didn't see Dillon as being that type of person.

"He didn't say much of anything," Jeremy admitted. "We've only seen him twice since the night you saw us take him out. When we picked him up the first time, Dave noticed you weren't there and asked where you were. All Dillon said was, 'He's gone.' He refused to say anything else, so we just thought it had been your choice."

"No, he wanted me gone," Seth admitted. "I guess he still does if he won't talk about me anymore." There was a defeated tone in Seth's voice.

Jeremy shrugged. "We wouldn't know. Like I said, we've only seen him twice since then and the second time was almost two months ago."

"Two months ago?" Seth was startled. "Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure. I don't remember the exact date or anything, but it was early spring."

"That doesn't make any sense," Seth mumbled, more to himself than anyone else.

"Why doesn't it make sense?" Dave spoke for the first time. His tone was slightly belligerent, but he was watching Seth carefully, seeming to search for something in Seth's face.

"It's just that Dillon was so happy any time he had a chance to get out of the house," Seth explained. "He was feeling very cooped up and I know he wanted to do as much as he could. Has he told you why he doesn't want to go out anymore?"

"We haven't talked to him at all," Jeremy said. "That nurse of his always answers the phone and all we can do is leave messages. Dillon just never returns them."

Seth walked away from the table without saying goodbye. Something wasn't right.

**

Lying in his bed, Seth watched the shadows chase each other across the ceiling. It was either very, very late or very, very early; Seth wasn't sure which one he wanted to consider it.

He had spent a sleepless night, lying in bed and thinking of Dillon. This wasn't the first time that had happened, but tonight was different. Before, he had been busy missing Dillon and imagining what it would be like to have Dillon lying here, next to him.

Now, worry was plaguing him. What he had been told just didn't make sense. It kept coming back to that. It didn't make sense and Seth could find no way to reconcile it in his mind.

One thing had occurred to him last night. Dillon could have fallen into a severe depression. It wasn't unusual. After all, the loss of one's sight was a major change in that person's life. Seth had expected Dillon to fall in and out of depression from time to time. In fact, Dillon would probably have really bad times the rest of his life. But this was different. This could be bad. This could mean he was suicidal.

No, he can't be, Seth told himself. The thought of Dillon's hurting himself was more than he ever wanted to contemplate. It was hard enough not having Dillon in his life, the thought of Dillon gone was unbearable and Seth just couldn't handle it. Resolutely, he turned his mind away from that conclusion.

Another problem had presented itself as well. Dillon needed to be evaluated. Someone should check and see how he was dealing with everything was going on. Seth was more than willing to do it. The thought of seeing Dillon, even in a professional sense, was exhilarating. But how to get Dillon to agree to it? They hadn't parted on the best of terms after all.

It was a windy day for summer and the curtains were being blown inward by each gust. Seth watched the shadows they cast upon his ceiling, seeing ominous shapes in them. 

Turning away, he looked at the clock. 5:30 a.m. Seth groaned. It was Sunday and he didn't have much to do, but it wasn't going to be a fun day when faced with no sleep at all.

Rising, he padded naked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Unlike with Dillon, he was living at home on the weekends while helping Sprite. Her father had offered him a place to stay all week, a gorgeous suite of rooms actually, but Seth had declined.

Stepping into the shower, he closed the door behind him. The water beat down on him, pummeling his skin. Steam began to rise as he leaned his head back, water cascading over his scalp onto his face. He stood like that for a moment before reaching for the shampoo.

He needed a way to move on with his life. He needed to start dating. Hell, he needed sex. It had been a long time since he had felt someone touch his body.

Once the hot water ran out, he stepped from the shower. Briskly drying off, he shook the water from his hair. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and walked into the kitchen.

Turning off the timer on the coffeepot, Seth manually switched it to brew. Then, since he was up so early and had plenty of time to waste. He pulled out everything he needed to make an omelet. He whisked the eggs and poured tem onto the warm skillet before throwing crumbled sausage into a second skillet. He quickly rinsed and chopped some spinach and tomatoes. Draining the sausage, he poured it and the vegetables onto the eggs then it topped it all with shredded cheddar.

Seth went and grabbed the morning paper off his front step before sitting down to his breakfast. The headlines were filled with events in Iraq and economic predictions.

It didn't work. His breakfast tasted like sawdust and the paper didn't hold his interest like it usually did. He forced himself to eat his omelet and clean up the dishes before he wandered into the living room.

The clock on the VCR read 7:00 a.m. He had used up an hour and a half.

Sitting down on his couch, Seth turned on the television and flipped through the channels. Finding nothing captivating he settled for an infomercial on the Ronco Rotisserie.

Jerking awake two hours later, he groaned. His back ached from the awkward position he had been in as he slept. Stretching carefully, he felt his tight muscles protest.

With a muffled curse, Seth walked to the telephone. He dialed Dillon's number from memory. He had started to call many times before, but had always hung up before it could connect.

This time he let it go through. The phone rang twice before Nurse Sterning picked it up. "Marshall residence," she said in her businesslike manner.

"Good morning, Nurse Sterning," Seth said. "It's Seth Evans, may I please speak to Dillon?"

"Oh, hello Mr. Evans," she responded. "I'm sorry, he's doing his at-home exercises and you know how important it is that he not be disturbed before he is done."

Seth could have kicked himself. He should have remembered that Dillon always did a workout between and 8:00 and 10:00 a.m. each morning. "Thanks, Nurse Sterning, I'll just call back later," he hung up the phone.

**

Seth hung up the telephone for the third tie that day. The second time he'd called, Nurse Sterning had informed him that Dillon was in the shower and that she would have him call as soon as possible. This time, she'd said Dillon was taking a nap. Seth didn't buy it; Dillon was avoiding him.

Obviously Dillon was still angry with him. He started to walk away from the phone, but then he hesitated. So, Dillon was upset. Well, so was he. Dillon wasn't the only one that was hurting. He picked up the receiver and called for a fourth time.

"Marshall residence."

"Nurse Sterning, it's Seth Evans again. Please tell Dillon that I am going to arrive at 7:00 p.m. tonight to take him out to dinner and that I won't take no for an answer."

Seth hung up before Nurse Sterning had a chance to answer. Whistling, he strolled back to his bedroom, eager to start getting ready.

**

Dillon heard Nurse Sterning mount the stairs. The soft clink of dishes rocking against each other told him that she was bringing his dinner tray. He moved from the window seat to his recliner, pulling the wooden tray table in front of him.

Then he realized that it seemed awfully early for dinner. He pushed a button on his new watch and it announced, "The time is 5:02 p.m." Why was dinner being served so early tonight? Usually Nurse Sterning was a stickler about keeping to the timetable she had set up her first day on the job.

"I hope you don't mind eating a bit early tonight, Mr. Marshall," Nurse Sterning said as she walked into the room. "I just found out that my son is in town for the evening and I wanted to go out to eat with him if you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind," Dillon assured her. "You're long overdue for some time off and you should definitely go see your son. I didn't even know you had any children. How long has it been since you've seen him?"

"It's actually been almost eight years," Nurse Sterning said. "It will be nice to have him with me again."

Dillon thoughtfully ate his dinner. Eight years without seeing her son? That was a very long time. Dillon wondered where the man lived that he had been away from his mother for so long.

Of course, Dillon couldn't talk. He hadn't even spoken to his parent in twelve years. The moment he'd turned eighteen, his parents had washed their hands of him. They'd told him they were law-abiding citizens and that the law said they had to care for him until he was an adult, but they felt no obligation to ever acknowledge his existence after that.

Dillon had almost run away more times than he could count. However, reason had prevailed each time. While his parents had ridiculed him for being homosexual, they had never raised a hand to him or deprived him of food or shelter. He'd used the time in their "care" to save money and earn grades good enough to get him a full-scholarship at a college far from where they lived so that on his eighteenth birthday he could leave without worrying about what would become of him.

His situation was entirely different, Dillon reminded himself. Nurse Sterning was obviously looking forward to seeing her son.

Dillon surprised himself by letting loose with a huge yawn. He was suddenly exhausted. He pushed the tray table back and stood up, swaying on his feet. He took a few steps in the direction of the bathroom, thinking to splash cold water on his face. Realizing he would never make it there, he turned and stumbled toward the bed. He was moving too awkwardly to count his steps properly, so instead he just propelled himself forward by sheer force of will. The moment he felt his knees connect with the bed, he let himself fall forward onto the mattress.



My Life is You Ch. 10



Seth’s heart beat an excited rhythm as he hurried up the path in front of Dillon’s house. His hands trembled and his palms were a bit sweaty. He wiped them against his tan slacks before knocking on the door.

He heard the approach of footsteps a moment before Nurse Sterning opened the door. She stepped back, allowing him room to enter. "Good evening, Mr. Evans."

"Good evening, Nurse Sterning," he responded. "How have you been?"

"I have been good," Nurse Sterning shut the door and walked back into the kitchen, beckoning for him to follow. "Mr. Marshall is still getting ready. Would you like some iced tea while you wait?"

Seth wasn’t really thirsty, but he said "Please," as he sat down at the table.

The iced tea that she served him was sweeter than he remembered her preparing it in the past. He took a sip, put the glass down, fidgeted a bit, his leg bouncing nervously up and down, and then took another sip. He kept doing this as he watched Nurse Sterning bustle around the kitchen, straightening and cleaning. Before he realized it, he had drained all the liquid from his glass.

That was when Seth realized that Nurse Sterning was no longer doing anything. She was just standing there, watching him intently. There was a calculating look in her eye, as though she was waiting for something to happen.

Seth’s head began to feel a bit woozy. He stood and excused himself. Moving into the downstairs bathroom, he splashed water on his face, but it didn’t help. As he stood up, his face swam in the mirror before him.

He tried to remember what he had eaten that day. Could he have food poisoning? No, he hadn’t really consumed anything that could have gone bad. The flu didn’t normally come on this quickly, but something was definitely wrong.

Staggering slightly, he walked back into the kitchen. "Nurse Sterning, I think I’m coming down with something. Would you please tell Dillon that I’m sorry and I’ll arrange to meet up with him some other time?"

"Oh, I don’t think that will be necessary," Nurse Sterning replied, turning toward him from the counter. His eyes widened when he saw the gun in her hands.

**

"What did you give me?" Seth slurred out the question. He was lying on the guest room bed, his hands and feet tied down to the posts.

"Oh, just an effective little combination of pain killers and sedatives," Nurse Sterning told him as she checked the strength of his bonds. "Not enough to harm you. No, I don’t want that quite yet. I just wanted you docile enough that I wouldn’t have to worry about your putting up any real resistance."

"Why are you doing this to me?" Seth struggled to get out. His tongue felt swollen like it did after visiting the dentist. His brain was slowly thinking questions, but his mouth was having trouble forming the words.

"I couldn’t let you take my boy from me after I’ve finally found him again, now could I?" Nurse Sterning asked. "That just wouldn’t be right."

"Your boy?"

"Yes, I knew when they said my Dylan was killed in that car accident that they had to be wrong. A mother would know if her child were gone. I’ve spent eight years looking for him and now that I’ve finally found him, I’m never going to let anyone separate us ever again."

"You don’t honestly think Dillon’s your son, do you?" Seth fought to think, to understand what she was saying.

"Don’t make the mistake of thinking me a fool," Nurse Sterning said harshly, stepping back from the bed. "I’m not. I made sure I was right."

"But Dillon would have recognized you if you were his mother," Seth protested.

"He has amnesia," Nurse Sterning made it sound like he was an idiot for not realizing that. "Think about it. Have you ever heard him mention anything about his family or childhood? No, you haven’t. It’s because he doesn’t remember. But he will, and I’ll be there when it happens."

Seth thought. It all sounded like a soap opera, but then, right now he felt like he was staring in a soap opera. After all, he had never known anyone else that had been tied to a bed . . . or at least no one who had been tied to a bed without his consent. Was it actually possible? Could Dillon be her son? He had never heard Dillon mention his family, now that he thought about it.

Ok, I need to try and be rational here, Seth thought to himself.

"What makes you think Dillon is your son?"

"So you’re starting to believe me now, are you?" Nurse Sterning sounded pleased. She lowered her voice, speaking to herself, "Maybe I won’t have to kill you after all."

She hadn’t meant Seth to hear her, but he had. Panic shot through him. He’d been so busy trying to understand what was going on and the reason behind it that he hadn’t thought to ask what she was going to do with him. Of course you couldn’t just kidnap someone and then let him go later on. You had to do something with your victim.

He didn’t want to die. That thought kept running through his head. He wanted to hug Eric again. He wanted to kiss Belinda on the cheek. He wanted to watch Sprite go back to being the active young woman she had been. I want to tell Dillon I love him.


"My son was in a car accident eight years ago," The sound of Nurse Sterning’s voice tore him from his thoughts. He’d been so caught up in the realization that he might not live much longer that he had almost forgotten she was in the room.

"This drunk just rammed into the car. He was wearing his seatbelt, but the man was going so fast that the seatbelt could only do so much. He was in a coma for six months. His knee was smashed, his arm broken, and he had massive head trauma and internal bleeding."

The injuries that she described so closely matched Dillon’s that he blinked. That was quite a coincidence. "Yes, but that was eight years ago. Dillon was hurt this year."

"No, he was hurt eight years ago," Nurse Sterning insisted. "He came out of his coma and they didn’t want to scare him, so they told him it had only been a week. I’m sure they meant well, just like they must have meant well when they told me he had died and that I had to bury him. But he’s okay now, even if he is blind. I’ve got my baby back and no one is ever taking him from me again. Do you understand? No one! Not even you!"

**

Dillon’s mouth was dry. If he weren’t so sure he hadn’t been drinking, he would have been convinced he had the cottonmouth that always accompanied hangovers.

His brain was fuzzy as he rolled over in his bed. He was still dressed, even wearing his shoes, he realized. The snap from his jeans had dug into his stomach as he lay on it, leaving a sore spot. He felt sweaty in that way that accompanies deep sleep.


Carefully rising, he held his head as it pounded. He needed water and he needed to use the bathroom. He moved forward, knocking into the tray table that he had left in the wrong spot. He caught it before any damage could be done, steadying it, the dishes clinking softly together.

Feeling his way around the tray table, Dillon moved toward the bathroom. He undid his jeans and lifted the toilet cover. He braced his hand against the wall and hoped his aim was good. He had taken to sitting on the toilet after the accident, but his need was too great at the moment to spend any extra time.

Once he was done, he stood there, forgetting to flush, just trying to wake up. Standing upright, he stripped himself of his clothes and dropped them into the hamper. Then he moved to the sink and ran the water cold. After washing his hands, he splashed water onto his face. Finally, he allowed himself to fill a glass and gulp down the water.

He drank two more glasses before he began to quench his thirst. The fourth full glass in his hand, he sat down on the side of the tub. He drank this one slowly, not wanting to get sick.

Having sated his thirst, he moved into his closet. Pulling open a drawer in his dresser, he selected a pair of cut-off sweatpants and a muscle shirt to wear. Dressed, he moved out into the hall. He didn’t even know what time it was. He felt otherworldly, nothing seeming real.

The stairs creaked as he carefully walked down them. Every noise seemed to be amplified in the quiet house. It must be very late, he thought to himself. 

In the kitchen, he carefully felt around until he found the cabinet door he was looking for. When he opened it up, however, it contained plates instead of glasses. Nurse Sterning must have switched things around to suit herself. That was fine with him, since she was the one cooking all the meals, but it didn’t tell him where the glasses were. He finally found them two cupboards down.

Dillon poured himself a glass of the pineapple and mango juice that was in the refrigerator and sat down at the table. He sipped it slowly, savoring the feel of its sweet/tart flavor rushing over his tastebuds. The cool liquid felt wonderful to his parched throat.

Once he finished, he placed the glass in the dishwasher and made his way back up the stairs. He was going to go back to his bed, but he thought he heard something coming from the guestroom. It was a muffled sound, as though someone was moving around in there.

He turned and started to walk into the room, but then he realized the door was closed. Now that was weird. That door was always left open. He tried to open it, but it was locked. 

At first, Dillon was confused by this. Then he decided that Nurse Sterning must have decided to move from the sofa bed in the study to the queen sized bed in the guestroom now that it was no longer needed by Seth. She must have locked the door in order to ensure her privacy. Turning away, he walked back to bed.

**

Seth lay on the guestroom bed, his jaw aching from having been held shut by duct tape for so long. He was uncomfortable, his body sore from being forced into the same position for almost a full day.

Nurse Sterning had come in twice to care for him. The indignity of having her help him with a bedpan was awful. His cheeks had been a burning red the whole time, but the pressure in his bladder was too great for him to resist.

She had taken the tape off while she had fed him. She’d held the gun in her right hand, the muzzle pressed against his temple, while she used her left hand to feed him. He had to admit that it had been a very effective way to ensure his silence.

Last night, he’d heard Dillon walk by the bedroom door and downstairs. When Dillon had come back up, Seth had struggled against his bonds as much as possible and tried to cry out against his gag. He knew Dillon had heard, because the doorknob had rattled a moment later. 

Seth didn’t know why Dillon hadn’t come back with the key, but he hadn’t. Seth’s only hope was that Dillon would ask Nurse Sterning about why the door was locked. Just like Dillon himself, this house was a very open place. Doors were not kept shut and other than the front and back door, they were never locked.

Sprite would be missing him this morning. There was that. But she didn’t know Dillon’s phone number or even Dillon’s last name. Nor could she really come searching for him. She probably would call Belinda, the two women having become good friends.

Eric and Belinda would contact the police once he had been gone for a while. He could definitely count on them for that. Had he ever told them Dillon’s full name? Seth wasn’t sure. He knew they had never been to Dillon’s house, but they did have the phone number from when he had lived here. Would they think to look for him here? Seth could only hope.

Seth heard the sound of a key turning in the lock of the door. He raised his head, hoping that for some reason Dillon would have decided to come in here. His hopes were dashed away as Nurse Sterning entered, bearing a dinner tray.

She quietly shut and locked the door before moving over to the bed. Placing the tray upon the bed beside him, she drew her gun from her apron pocket. She made a great show of taking the safety off before she pressed it to his temple again.

"I just want to remind you, Mr. Evans, that if you make the slightest sound it will be your last," she reiterated before pulling the tape from his lips.

It was hard not to cry out as the tape came off. His skin was raw and burning and the removal of the tape stung enough to bring tears to his eyes. Only the feel of the cold metal pressed to his temple kept him quiet.

He chewed and swallowed mechanically, not really tasting the food that Nurse Sterning was feeding him. He had no appetite but knew that he needed to keep up his strength as much as possible. No matter how much he had worked at the ropes binding him, he’d been unable to find any give in them. Still, just the slightest chance and he was going to try with all his might to escape.

Nurse Sterning placed a new piece of tape over his mouth after he had eaten everything on the tray and drank the small glass of water. He wasn’t sure why she was keeping him alive when she plainly meant to kill him eventually, but he was going to hope for all the time he could have.

**

Something strange was going on, Dillon was sure of it. For the past two days, Nurse Sterning had been going up and down the stairs more than usual. She would carry trays of food into the guestroom and then carry them back out fifteen minutes later. He supposed she could be eating in there, but that made no sense. Why would she carry her food all the way up the stairs, eat it, and then carry the dirty dishes back down again?

He knew she was doing it because he had heard her. It wasn’t that his hearing had gotten better after the accident and his resulting blindness. That was just an old wives’ tale. Rather, he paid more attention to what he heard now. He heard the same amount; he just noticed it more. So when Nurse Sterning walked up the stairs with a tray, he couldn’t help but hear the clink of dishes knocking together, even though she was trying to be very quiet and was moving slowly so that the dishes didn’t rattle too much.

This time when Nurse Sterning disappeared into the guestroom he quietly made his way down the hall. He’d left his cane behind so that there was no chance of his hitting anything with it. He’d heard her lock the door behind herself when she had gone in, so he didn’t know why he was moving toward the door.

Then he heard her say something. He couldn’t make out what she said, muffled by the closed door as it was, but she had definitely spoken. Who was she talking to? There was not a phone in that room, so she hadn’t called anyone.

Dillon hovered outside the door, barely breathing, waiting to hear something else. There was nothing: no speaking; no sounds, other than the slight rattle of dishes, to give anything away. When he heard her stand up, he moved back down the hall, being careful not to run into anything. Entering his room, he eased the door shut so that it made no sound.

What could be going on? Was anything going on? Dillon had to admit, if only to himself, that he might be making something up just to relieve himself of the ennui that had set in. He wanted something interesting in his life, and this was a convenient little mystery.

But a mystery it was. And even if he was grasping at straws, Dillon wanted to solve it. But how to do so? Nurse Sterning was very careful about keeping the door locked at all times and he had no lockpicking skills whatsoever.

Dillon sighed. His taste in décor was working against him. Not long after moving in he’d had all the interior doorknobs replaced. He’d liked the look of antique doorknobs with locks that required keys. He’d never intended to lock any of the doors, but he’d kept all the keys just in case he’d ever need one. He had neatly labeled each one and placed them all in a resealable bag in a kitchen drawer.

That was it! That bag of keys should still be down in the kitchen. Of course, the key for that knob wouldn’t be in the bag anymore, Nurse Sterning had it, but all the locks were similar, so a key to another door might just work. Dillon’s elation deflated. Nurse Sterning had reorganized the kitchen. The bag of keys used to be in the drawer next to the backdoor, but it could be anywhere now. It might not even be in the kitchen anymore. She might have moved it to the laundry room or basement.

There was also the problem of finding time to search for the bag of keys. The only time Nurse Sterning left her kitchen domain was to bring him food or to make one of her trips into the guestroom. Unfortunately, she didn’t spend enough time in there for him to make it down the stairs, search the kitchen, and get back to his room unseen. He couldn’t even wait until she went to the store because she had begun having the groceries delivered weekly.

That only left one possibility. He’d have to stay awake and creep down to the kitchen in the middle of the night. If he was extremely careful, he might be able to search without making too much noise.

Deciding that was his best course of action, Dillon lay down upon his bed. If he were going to stay awake later, he’d definitely need to take a nap now.

**

Belinda, Eric, and Sprite sat crowded together on a hard bench. On the other side of Eric a drunken man was retching into a hastily provided wastebasket. A light overhead flickered on and off, emitting a buzzing sound as it struggled with its short. A bored desk clerk seated across from them answered the ever-ringing telephone, promptly transferring the calls elsewhere. People hurried past, not even glancing at the three of them.

A loud commotion drew their attention. A tall woman was being dragged into the building. She was kicking and struggling, practically being carried by the two men on either side of her. Swearing vociferously, she wrenched herself away, shoving one of the men so hard that he reeled back and landed on the drunk. Eric ducked to avoid his cartwheeling arms as he struggled to regain his balance and launch himself back at the woman.

Finally bringing her down, the men forced her to lie upon her stomach. One of the men manacled her hands behind her back with a pair of handcuffs provided by a uniformed officer who had rushed to assist. Once secured, they hauled her up and dragged her back into the building, her continued protests ringing out in the air behind her.

Sprite’s eyes were wide as she watched the scene. When the woman was brought up, Sprite cheered and clapped her hands. The uniformed man looked back at her and gave her a smile and a wink. She grinned and waved back at him.

Belinda and Eric shared a smile over the top of Sprite’s head. Actions like this were part of the reason they were coming to love her so much. Even in the most trying of times, she managed to enjoy life.

"Mr. Evans," a man called. He watched as they rose and beckoned for them to follow him. "I’m Detective Morrow," he introduced himself. "If you’ll just follow me to my desk, I’ll see how I can help you."

They walked into a large room filled with tinted Plexiglas cubicles. Detective Morrow led them on a winding path until they reached a cubicle with a nameplate reading ‘Detective William Morrow.’ It contained a scarred and dented metal desk, one rolling chair, two straight-backed chairs, and a filing cabinet. The space was made a bit homier by the pictures spread around of a woman and four children. Atop the filing cabinet, a spider fern was putting up a valiant struggle to survive.

Detective Morrow squeezed himself behind his desk. The rolling chair squeaked in protest as he sat, gesturing for them to take the two remaining chairs. Eric looked around, spotted another chair at a currently unoccupied cubicle across the aisle and grabbed that. Once they were all seated, Eric’s chair more in the aisle than the cubicle, Detective Morrow stated, "I understand you think something has happened to your brother Mr. Evans."

"That’s right," Eric responded. "No one has heard from him since early Sunday morning at around 1:00 a.m. when we all left Achin’ together. He was supposed to be at work Monday morning, but he never showed up."




My Life is You Ch. 10



"Have you called his workplace?" Detective Morrow asked, writing down notes on a pad of paper.

"I’m his workplace," Sprite said. "Seth is a private physical therapist and right now I’m his only patient. He lives at my house during the week and then goes home on the weekends. I guess you can say my body is his construction project," she finished with an impish grin.

"And you are?"

"My name is Alyxandria Mallon, but everyone calls me Sprite," Sprite smiled.

A slight curve of the lips was the only sign Detective Morrow gave that he was being charmed. "So, when did you first notice that Mr. Evans was missing, Miss Mallon?" inquired Detective Morrow.

"When he didn’t show up at 8:00 a.m. Monday morning, I thought he was just running late. Normally he arrives between 7:45 and 8:00 and we start my first therapy session of the day at 8:15. I didn’t really start wondering, though, until it was 9:00 and I still hadn’t heard from him. Seth had never been even a moment late, so an hour with no phone call was weird."

"And what did you do at that point?"

"I called his cel phone. Seth always carries it. He didn’t answer so I tried his house. But he doesn’t even have an answering matching there since he’s home so rarely."

"At what point did you contact Mr and Mrs. Evans here?" Detective Morrow was doing no more than taking notes and asking occasional questions at this point.

"I called Belinda that evening. I had to wait until she got home from work. I wanted to go by his house earlier, make sure he wasn’t in there sick or something, but I can’t drive just yet because of my back."

Detective Morrow sat back in his chair, which creaked again at his movement. "Has Mr. Evans ever disappeared like this before? Has he ever needed time away by himself and forgotten to tell anyone?"

Eric spoke up. "No, never. Seth and I usually talk every day. We’re twins and very close. And if he doesn’t call me, he calls Belinda. They’ve been best friends since college. In fact, Seth is the one who introduced Belinda and I."

"So let me get this straight," Detective Morrow sat forward again, tenting his fingers together. "You normally speak with your brother everyday, the last time you did so was so early Sunday morning that it might as well have been Saturday night, but you didn’t think to be worried when you hadn’t heard from him by the time you arrived home from work on Monday. Why is that?"

Belinda and Eric exchanged a look before Belinda spoke for the first time, "We were worried, but not about his being missing. That never occurred to us until Sprite called Monday evening."

"Then what were you worried about?"

"Saturday night Seth got some unusual news about a former patient of his. He had been very close to that patient, so the news upset him," Belinda tried to explain without going into details.

That didn’t work. William Morrow wasn’t a detective for nothing. "What sort of upsetting news?"

"A man by the name of Dillon Marshal used to be a patient of Seth’s," Eric told Detective Morrow. "While at the club, Seth ran into some of Dillon’s friends, who told Seth that Dillon had pretty much cut himself off from the world. Seth became worried that Dillon may have fallen into a deep depression, one that could potentially be suicidal."

"That’s a serious problem. Did Mr. Evans inform anyone of his suspicions?" Detective Morrow frowned. Emergency personnel of any kind always took the threat of suicide very gravely.

"No, Seth felt he needed to meet with Dillon first. He wanted to evaluate Dillon’s mental and emotional state. Seth has worked with a lot of seriously injured patients and he’d be able to tell the difference between depression and a desire to start anew, often by distancing one’s self from the past."

"So did Mr. Evans make an appointment to meet with Mr. Marshall?"

"Part of the problem was Seth didn’t know how to approach Dillon. They’d had a falling out and hadn’t spoken since."

Detective Morrow raised an eyebrow. "Am I right in assuming that Mr. Evans and Mr. Marshall had a relationship of a personal nature?"

Eric flushed. "No, they didn’t. But not because neither of them wanted it. Seth is very much in love with Dillon, but he would never step over the line when it comes to one of his patients."

"So Mr. Evans was upset by the fact that he believed the man he’s in love with was suicidal. Do any of you have Mr. Marshall’s phone number? I’d like to call and speak with him, find out if Mr. Evans has been in touch."

"I have it," Belinda volunteered, pulling an electronic organizer out of her purse. With a few strokes of the stylus she had pulled up Dillon’s phone number. Writing it down on a piece of paper Detective Morrow had handed to her, she pushed it across the desk to him.

He glanced at the paper before looking back up. "Have any of you actually gone to Mr. Evans’ house?"

"Of course we have!" Eric exclaimed. "We went Monday night after Sprite called. I have a key and we let ourselves in, but he wasn’t there."

"What did the house look like?"

All three of them gave him a puzzled look. Detective Morrow sighed. "Is Mr. Evans normally a neat individual?" Belinda and Eric nodded. "Was it still neat in there?" They nodded again. "Any signs of a struggle?" They shook their heads. "Any notes left behind?" Another shake of the head.

Detective Morrow scrubbed at his eyes before running his hands down his face. "Look, I’ll be honest with you. I’m going to call Mr. Marshall and I’m going to call all the hospitals and jails in the area. But the truth is there’s not a lot to go on. There’s nothing to point to foul play at this point, so there’s only so much I can do."

Eric looked like he was about to protest, but Belinda stopped him. "We’ll appreciate anything you can do. We just want Seth home again."

**

Seth watched Nurse Sterning quietly close the bedroom door behind her. She was leaving with the full bedpan, but this time she didn’t have to juggle it with a tray of dirty dishes. Of course, that was because she hadn’t bothered to feed him tonight. As she put it, why waste food on a dead man?

He should have been crying. He should have been struggling to escape. Instead he just lay there, unable to believe that this would be his last night alive.

Nurse Sterning had been very agitated when she entered the room fifteen minutes ago. She had paced up and down, muttering to herself. He had only been able to make out occasional words, like "damn interfering fools" and "tonight, yes, tonight."

Finally she’d turned to look at him and her face was terrifyingly calm, almost serene. He’d known in that moment his fate was sealed. If he’d had any doubts, though, her words would have taken them away.

"It seems someone has reported you missing to the police and has also mentioned to them that you might have come bothering my Dylan. The detective that called wanted to speak to my baby, but I convinced him that Dylan was at the doctor’s office.

"But I can’t put him off forever. Eventually he’ll have to come here to speak to Dylan. I can’t have you here when that happens, now can I? So, I think the time has come for you to leave us. Yes, you’ll definitely have to leave us now." 



My Life is You Ch. 11



It was half past midnight. Dillon knew because he had checked the time using his talking watch. The house was quiet and he was sure Nurse Sterning was asleep. She always retired to her room promptly at 10:00 p.m.

He carefully made his way down the hall and into the kitchen. Without thinking about it, he had brought his cane along and now he had to work to make sure it didn't bump against anything. He almost gave himself away, however, when he tripped over a chair. It seemed that Nurse Sterning had been rearranging the furniture and hadn't bothered to tell him there was now a table and chair in the hallway. Holding his breath, he listened. Had Nurse Sterning heard the scrape of the chair over the tile of the hall? He breathed a sigh of relief when she didn't come running. Then he moved on. Entering the kitchen, he silently lay the cane upon the counter and opened the first drawer.

His questing fingers met with silverware. Knives, forks, and spoons were neatly placed in a plastic holder. Shutting it, he moved to the drawer below. This one appeared to contain towels. Dillon tried to remember how many drawers there were in the kitchen. Suddenly, it seemed like there were a hundred of them even though he knew that wasn't right.

The third drawer held odds and ends, but not the kind he wanted. He muffled a cry as he pierced his finger on a meat thermometer. Sucking his finger, he closed the drawer. The lowest drawer was deep and Nurse Sterning had placed onions and potatoes in it. They rolled against each other as he eased the drawer shut again.

Slowly Dillon made his way around the counter. It took him quite a while since he didn't want the drawers to make any sound as he opened and shut them. He constantly worried that the contents would shift and clang together as the drawers were in motion. Ascertaining what the contents were wasn't much easier, either. He had to be very careful about where he placed his fingers.

Dillon was just about to give up hope when he came to the last drawer. It was the one next to the back door. However, he didn't believe that what he was looking for would be in there since nothing was in the same spot anymore. Why would Nurse Sterning leave this drawer intact?

Dillon cringed as the heavy drawer groaned and rattled as he pulled it out. That was a good sign, however. Those keys were heavy, along with the other things he had kept in his junk drawer, like a hammer and screwdrivers. Not daring to open it all the way, he pulled it out just far enough for his hand and lower arm to slide in. His fingers met the handle of the hammer! Dillon's heart beat rapidly as he ran his fingers up the handle to the head.

There it was! Right above the hammer was the bag of keys. Dillon withdrew his hand to the handle of the hammer again and carefully pulled the hammer from the drawer. Then using his other hand, he reached back into the drawer and grasped the bag of keys.

Pulling them toward him in the drawer was an excruciatingly slow process. If anything were going to give off a lot of noise, a bag of keys would do it. Finally though they sat at the front of the drawer. Dillon picked them up and then placed the hammer back in the drawer, which he eased shut.

Taking his time, Dillon moved out of the kitchen and down the hall. He almost ran into the table and chair again, but he remembered them at the last minute. It was only when he reached the first stairstep that he remembered his cane. He couldn't leave it there. It was a definite giveaway.

Backtracking, Dillon retrieved his cane. Now the problem became making sure the cane didn't hit anything and keeping the bag of keys silent while finding his way without tripping over anything. The damn table and chair were the only real obstacles, however. Without them it would have been a straight shot down the hall.

The journey up the steps was a tense one. They rarely creaked, but from time to time, as the house settled, they would speak out. One did groan as he placed his weight upon it and Dillon froze again. Nurse Sterning was down in the study and he hadn't checked to see if her door were completely closed. Had she heard that?

The sound of the study door opening scared him. Dillon heard her walk to the downstairs bathroom and shut the door. He crouched down on the stairs so that he would be as small as possible, hoping to blend with the shadows. He couldn't remember what color he was wearing and unfortunately had no way to check.

Only when Nurse Sterning was back in her room a heart-pounding five minutes later did Dillon dare to breathe freely again. He wasn't sure why, all of a sudden, he didn't trust her, but something no longer seemed right. 

He hadn't analyzed his feelings. He was only going with instinct on this. But his instincts told him she was hiding something. Yet, there was no reason for her to do so. Unless she was doing something illegal, he didn't care what she was doing. He was too busy trying to figure out what he was doing with his life to worry about what she was doing with hers.

Reaching the top of the stairs, he traveled the few steps down the hall to the guestroom. He carefully placed his cane upon the floor, glad he had re-carpeted the hall not long ago. The carpet was thick and high, muffling the sound of the cane hitting it. With trembling hands he carefully opened the bag. The keys clinked quietly together, but he didn't think they were loud enough to rouse Nurse Sterning again.

The first key fit into the lock, but would not turn. The second wouldn't even go in. The third fit, turned slightly, but not all the way. The fourth also fit but did not turn. It was the fifth key that worked. It wasn't a perfect fit. But it turned farther than the others and with a bit of finessing Dillon got it to unlock the door.

**

Seth listened to the door rattle. What was going on? Was Nurse Sterning standing out there and enjoying the chance to torment him? He'd rather she just came in. If he was going to die tonight, he didn't want it to be after long hours of torture. Scratch that, the waiting had already been long hours of torture.

The lock finally clicked and the door eased open just a fraction. There was the sound of some clinking and then the door opened completely. The moon shining through the part in the windows showed a muscular figure who turned and silently closed the door behind him. It was Dillon!

Seth could have sobbed with relief. He watched as Dillon moved to the dresser and set a bag of some kind down. Then Dillon began to open and close drawers, searching for something. Seth was sure that Dillon did not know he was there.

Sucking as large a breath in through his nose as he could, Seth began to thrash on the bed with all his might. His ties didn't allow him much leeway, but he used whatever he had. He also cried out against the gag, creating muffled sounds.

Dillon jerked aright. "Who's there?" he asked softly. "Is someone there?"

Seth worked harder, his body straining against his bonds. Still clutching his cane, Dillon moved toward the bed. Only when Dillon's fingers slid over the comforter and onto his leg did Seth stop moving.

Dillon's hand slowly traveled up his body. In any other situation, Seth would be moaning with delight. Dillon's touch still sent sparks through him, even now.

Dillon's hand jerked back slightly as it brushed against his crotch. Seth could almost be amused if this weren't his only chance of rescue. Dillon's hand continued its upward journey, over his stomach, which had been flat before but was closer to hollow now, and up the center of his chest. 

When Dillon's hand reached his face, Dillon discovered the duct tape. Seth felt Dillon's fingers move along it to the edge. Dillon was much gentler in its removal than Nurse Sterning had ever been. He peeled it carefully away from Seth's skin. It still stung; there was no way to avoid that given how raw the skin underneath was.

Seth worked his mouth once the gag was removed. His jaw was incredibly sore and his mouth dry. 

"Who are you?" Dillon asked.

Seth swallowed several times, trying to bring saliva to his mouth before answering. "It's me Dillon, it's Seth," his voice was hoarse from disuse.

"Seth," Dillon breathed. "Seth, what's going on?"

"I'll tell you all about it later," Seth replied. "Please, just untie me now. We have to get out of here before Nurse Sterning comes."

Dillon hesitated for a moment. Seth was sure he was weighing his need to know what was going on in his own home against Seth's urgency. Luckily, Seth's fervor won out and Dillon ran his hands up Seth's right arm to the tie there.

Muttering at how tight it was, Dillon lay the cane upon the bed between them. Seth watched Dillon work at the knot with both hands. All of Seth's struggles had actually tightened the knots and Dillon had to work hard to get them undone.

When Seth's right hand was free, Dillon moved to Seth's right foot. Seth half sat up the best he could and went to work on the bindings surrounding his left hand. Sweat was beading on his brow. It was amazing how a physically fit body could be so reduced in four days' time.

Seth would spend the rest of his days thanking the Lord that he chose that moment to glance at Dillon. If he hadn't, he never would have seen Nurse Sterning enter the room, intent upon filling a syringe with something.

"Dillon, watch out!" Seth cried. Dillon jerked up and back, before swinging around. He had to know that Nurse Sterning was there even if he couldn't see her. There was no other reason for Seth to react that way.

Grabbing his cane, he turned and swung out. His passes didn't come close to Nurse Sterning, who had barely entered the room, but they did keep her at bay.

Seth struggled to untie his left wrist, his fingers fumbling in his haste. Finally it was free and he sat up completely. Dillon had untied Seth's right foot and begun to work on the bindings of the left. With trembling fingers, Seth completed Dillon's work.

Dillon was still wildly swinging his cane. Nurse Sterning was trying to calm him down. It was obvious to Seth that she didn't want to hurt Dillon. "Shhhh, baby, it's alright. Mommy's here and you just need to put that down so that Mommy can make everything right."

Instead of calming Dillon, Nurse Sterning's words seemed to make Dillon more agitated. His swings of the cane became wilder and more violent, where before they had just been a means to keep Nurse Sterning away.

Seth rose, supporting himself by holding onto the footboard of the bed. He hissed in pain as blood rushed back into his limbs. The pins and needles sensation that accompanied a limb "falling asleep" was magnified a hundred times. "Dillon, we need to get out of here and call the police," Seth gritted out between clenched teeth.

"No!" Nurse Sterning yelled. "No one's taking my boy away from me ever again! Dylan, baby, just let Mommy take care of things," her voice became pleading for a moment. Then she turned and rushed toward Seth, the syringe extended in front of her.

Just before she could reach Seth, one of Dillon's swings connected. He was screaming, "What are you talking about? You're not my mother! My mother is a self-righteous bitch that turned her back on me long ago!" The last word was punctuated by the sound of the cane striking flesh. It caught her across her left arm and her chest.

Nurse Sterning cried out in pain, reeling slightly from the blow, but not pausing in her desire to reach Seth. She leaped at him, the syringe scraping over his skin but not puncturing it. "Let me just take care of him and then we can sit down and talk. I'll help you, I'll help you to remember me," she panted out as she struggled with Seth.

Seth fought to push her back. Normally he would have been much stronger than her, but he had been greatly weakened by his time in captivity. The syringe waved wildly in her hand as she tried to insert it into him. He locked both his arms around her right wrist, pushing the syringe away from him. Then he twisted, throwing her off balance.

Nurse Sterning cried out again as her feet slipped out from under her. As she went down, Seth tore himself from her grasp. He moved to Dillon and took the cane, standing over Nurse Sterning. "Drop the syringe," he ordered her in a harsh voice.

Nurse Sterning sobbed, but dropped the syringe. Seth carefully kicked it away from her, keeping his eyes on her the whole time. "Please Dylan, please baby," she pleaded. "Don't be mad at Mommy. I just wanted us to be together again."

"Dillon, go call the police," Seth said quietly. Dillon turned and felt along the wall until he came to the door and headed out into the hall.

"He's not your son, you know," Seth said softly. "He remembers his mother, he said so himself."

"No! I don't know what they've done to him, but he is my son! He has to be! I can't have lost my baby," she collapsed in on herself, wailing. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and Seth could almost feel sorry for her. If his body wasn't aching with all she had put him through and the syringe weren't lying there on the floor, a reminder of what she had planned, he might have wanted to comfort her.

They stayed there for a long time, Seth silently keeping guard over her weeping form. The only time he moved was to turn on the light so that he could better see her. Dillon finally returned, an angry look on his face. "She disconnected all the phones other than the one in the kitchen!" he spat out. "I called 9-1-1 and they're sending a car out. She better hope they keep her far from me,"

Not long after that they heard the wail of a siren. Dillon went downstairs to unlock the front door. Seth hadn't moved from where he stood over Nurse Sterning.

A guard probably wasn't needed anymore. She had taken one look at the hatred on Dillon's face and gone quiet. Now, she just sat and quietly cried, murmuring to herself, "My baby, my baby," as she rocked back and forth.

When the police officers arrived, there was a babble of voices. Both Dillon and Seth were trying to explain at once. Finally, the female officer put her fingers to her lips and let out a shrill whistle. "One at a time," she commanded. "Mr. Marshall, you go first since this is your house."

"I found Seth tied up in here," Dillon said. "When I tried to free him Nurse Sterning attacked us."

"I take it this woman is Nurse Sterning," the officer said, looking down at Nurse Sterning crouched on the floor. "How did she come to be here?"

"She was my private nurse," Dillon said. "I was in a bad car accident and I needed someone to help me, so she was hired."

"Do you have any idea what she has against you Mr. Evans?"

"It's not that she has something against me," Seth said from where he sat on the bed. As soon as the cops had entered the room he had sagged down onto it, his rush of adrenaline dying out. "Somehow she convinced herself that Dillon is her son. From what I can tell, her real son died in a car accident similar to Dillon's eight years ago. When I arrived to take him out to dinner she was threatened and wanted to get rid of me. I don't know why she didn't do it immediately, but I've been here since Sunday." Then he thought of something. He had no idea how long that was! "What day is it?"

"It's Thursday, or, actually, Friday morning," the male officer supplied. While they had been talking he had called for paramedics and sealed the syringe in an evidence bag.

"You've been here since Sunday," Dillon squeaked. "I'm so sorry, Seth, I had no idea."

"It's not your fault, Dillon," Seth soothed him. "You had no way of knowing what she was up to."

Dillon moved over to the bed and sat next to Seth. He didn't seem to notice that Seth wasn't very fresh at the moment. "Were you really going to take me out to dinner? Even after how awful I was to you?"

"You weren't awful, you were upset," Seth looked down at his lap. "I should have told you that I knew and that I didn't mind."

"So we can be friends again?" Dillon asked, tentatively reaching out to touch Seth's hand.

"I'm hoping we can be that and more," Seth said, raising his hand to Dillon's cheek. "I'm not your therapist now, but I am still in love with you."

A look of surprise came over Dillon's face. Seth smiled and drew Dillon into his arms, holding him tight. Dillon pulled back, confused. "But, Seth! You're not . . . I mean, you don't . . ."

Seth smiled tenderly at Dillon. "Oh, yes, I most certainly am, and I definitely do, especially when around you!" Then he drew Dillon forward again and leaned down, eager to feel Dillon's lips against his own.

The moment was interrupted by the arrival of the paramedics. One team went to work on Nurse Sterning while another insisted on checking out Seth. He protested that he was fine, but they were adamant that he go to the emergency room and have a doctor check him over.

Dillon asked to go with Seth in the ambulance but was denied since he wasn't family. Seth told him to call Jeremy and see if he could bum a ride.

"I can't call Jeremy," Dillon said. "I make him too uncomfortable."

Seth cupped his hands around Dillon's face and leaned forward to kiss him lightly. The kiss was no more than a brushing together of their lips, but it was enough to make Seth's toes curl. "No, baby, that's not it all. Think. Nurse Sterning disconnected all the phones. You never heard the phone ring because she didn't want you to have any contact with the outside world. She wanted you to think you only had her. But I know better. I saw Jeremy at Achin' Saturday night and he misses you."

Then Seth leaned in for another kiss. This one was as gentle as the last but it said so much more. It told of his love, his longing to share himself and his life with Dillon. Dillon's lips were warm against his own and Seth longed to linger in the kiss. His thumbs stroked the sides of Dillon's face as he drew away, their breath mingling.

When they pulled apart Dillon promised to call Jeremy right away. Seth let himself be led out of the house. If he had to go to the hospital, he wanted it over and done with as soon as possible. He was eager to begin the next chapter of his life.



My Life is You Ch. 12



SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO GET THIS OUT. I'M TRAINING TO DO A HALF-MARATHON FOR CHARITY AND IT TAKES UP A LOT OF MY TIME. HOPE YOU ENJOY. P.S. IF YOU'RE LOOKING FOR QUICK SEX, I SUGGEST YOU TRY A DIFFERENT STORY.

Dillon sat on the sofa in the living room. He could hear the sounds of a crime scene being examined floating down the stairs. Two ambulances had just left, the first containing the man he loved. A police car had followed the second.

Dillon’s thoughts were in turmoil. How had he missed all that was going on under his nose? Seth was gay and in love with him. That was something he had never dared to dream of, or, at least, not really. He’d thought for sure that Seth was solidly heterosexual. Looking back, he could only think of one thing that would have given him that impression, and that was the fact that Seth’s identical twin was heterosexual. Without realizing it, he had just assumed that if one twin was heterosexual, the other one was too. Seth had suffered so much, first by Dillon’s own harsh treatment of him, then at Nurse Sterning’s hand, and Dillon had never even sensed what was going on. Was he so selfishly turned inward that he ignored all others?

He was sure of one thing. It would never have occurred to him that Nurse Sterning would believe him to be her son. Like he had told her on. . . Lord, was it only Sunday? . . . he had never even realized she had a son. And the first time she mentioned her son, she spoke as if he were alive.

There should have probably been feelings of regret when he thought of his mother. There weren’t. He didn’t regret walking out on his eighteenth birthday and never looking back. If he ever did think with regret, it was to wish that his parents could have been better, more loving people.

He’d seen parents like that. They might be shocked and even dismayed to find they had a homosexual child, but they came to terms with it, accepted it. Or they could be accepting from the very beginning. The one thing they always did was to love their child no matter what.

Not his parents. When he had called his mother a self-righteous bitch he had meant it. They saw no wrong in their actions, in their disdain for their son, yet saw great wrong in him.

Knocking on the door drew his attention. Rising, he made his way into the foyer and opened the door. A pair of arms pulled him forward into a warm hug. Dillon recognized those arms and the body they held him against. He had felt them before.

“Oh, Jeremy, I’m so sorry for having doubted you,” he said into Jeremy’s shoulder. “You’ve been my best friend for so long, I should never have believed you would just abandon me that way.”

“And I never should have believed you were avoiding me. I tried so hard to accept your wishes that I never stopped to make sure they actually were yours.” Jeremy’s voice was raspy with emotion.

Dillon stepped back and Jeremy followed him inside. They shut the door and then just stood there awkwardly, neither knowing what to say. Finally Jeremy cleared his throat and asked, “How is Seth?”

“I don’t know,” Dillon admitted, turning and making his way back into the living room. He could hear Jeremy following behind him. “I haven’t spoken to him since they took him to the hospital. He seemed okay, if weak, but the thing that worries me is that he might end up blaming me for all this.”

“No, Dillon,” Jeremy said firmly. “From what you told me on the phone, none of this could be your fault and I don’t want you ever thinking it was.”

“And if Seth thinks it?”

“Seth won’t. I don’t know him well, but from what I can tell he’s a good man. I need to ask you something about him, however.”

Dillon nodded his assent. 

“Are you sure of your feelings for Seth? He came along at a very difficult time, a time when you were feeling extremely lonely and lost, could it just be that you’re clinging to him because he’s become a sort of lifeboat?” Jeremy’s words were spoken slowly, almost as if he were reluctant to say them.

Dillon thought about that. Seth had come along when he was feeling the loss of Brad even more than he normally would have. Yes, everything had been changing in his life and it had hurt. That didn’t mean, however, that Seth wasn’t the kind of man he would have been attracted to before the accident. Seth was loving, a man who liked to help others. He was funny, with a good sense of humor that he never used to hurt, only to heal. He was gentle, careful to be tender in his dealings with those at a disadvantage. Yet, that didn’t take away from his strength. And he was definitely a strong man. Not just physically, either. He had a strong heart, a strong character. 

When Dillon finally replied, he did so with a great deal of thought. “I won’t deny that we met under trying circumstances. Or that if Brad and I hadn’t broken up I never would have looked twice at Seth. But can you honestly tell me that you don’t think Seth and I are perfect together? Because I do. I see all that he is, and I love him for it. He’s a man like no other I have ever known and what he is draws me to him more than I have ever been drawn to any other.

“So I’m going to say I am sure of my feelings for him. Yes, he has been my lifeboat, but he’s become my life.”

“Then that’s all I need to know,” Jeremy replied.

The two men sat back to wait until the police were done and they could leave. They talked for a time, catching up on events in Jeremy’s life. Eventually, they fell silent, each happy to have his best friend back again.

**

Seth watched the second hand make another journey around the plain clock mounted on the plain wall. The hour hand was pointing to the three and the minute hand was between the four and the five. He had been watching the clock since the hour hand pointed at the one and the minute hand pointed at the eleven.

Where was Dillon? Was he okay? Had Jeremy refused to come give him a ride? Seth highly doubted that possibility, but then the world hadn’t been acting in its usual way lately, so anything was possible.

He had been trying to get permission to make a phone call for over an hour now. The nurses kept putting him off, saying that the doctor needed to finish his exam and the blood work needed to come back first. Seth was getting angry. Didn’t they understand that there were people who cared about him, who would be worried that he hadn’t contacted them in so long?

Finally pushing away the blanket in disgust, Seth swung his legs down off the high bed. They immediately buckled and if he hadn’t been holding onto the railing he would have gone down. Taking a moment to steady himself, he moved toward the cubicle opening. One hand futilely clutched at the opening in the back of the hospital gown. The emergency room was cold and there was a definite draft against his bare backside. 

Pushing a curtain aside, he looked out into the Emergency Room. No one was paying any attention to him.

Walking into the hall, he looked for a pay phone. Seth spotted a sign for one and slowly made his way down the hall. His free hand slid along the ugly wall as he used it for support. Once he reached the pay phone, he cursed himself. He had no money. Oh well, Eric was just going to have to accept the charges.

The phone rang twice before it was answered. “Hello?” Eric sounded exhausted, more so than a simple wake up call would have been responsible for.

“Eric,” Seth only said his name, but it was enough. 

“Where are you?”

“Crestwick Sinai, the Emergency Department,” Seth responded.

“We’re on our way.”

Seth hung up the phone and turned to walk back down the hall. He was still weak but he felt much better for having spoken with Eric, if only for a moment.

**

They all arrived at once. Jeremy was leading Dillon into the Emergency Room when he gasped. “What is it?” Dillon asked.

“I know I can’t be right, but I could swear I just saw Seth walk into the hospital with a woman.”

Something pulled at Dillon’s memory and it was a moment before he could access the needed information. “Oh, that’s probably Eric and his wife Belinda. I’ve never actually met either of them but Seth told me he and Eric are identical twins.”

“Well, that makes sense,” Jeremy said as he led Dillon up to the admissions desk.

They asked for Seth and were told they’d have to wait in the guest lounge. Jeremy led Dillon there, helping him avoid the feet of people sprawled out asleep in chairs as they waited to be seen.

“Are you ready to meet them?” Jeremy asked. 

Dillon took a deep breath and nodded. He could have hoped for better circumstances in which to meet Seth’s family, but he wasn’t going to ignore them either.

When Jeremy stopped walking, Dillon halted beside him. “Hi Eric, Belinda,” he said awkwardly. “I know you don’t know me but I’m . . .”

“Dillon,” Belinda breathed, standing and crushing Dillon to her in a hug. “Please, what’s going on? What has happened to Seth? Why is he here?”

Dillon swallowed. They didn’t know. They had no clue where Seth had been or what had happened to him. “I think you need to sit down, Belinda,” Dillon said.

She sat, pulling him down beside her. “What is it Dillon?”

“I don’t know the whole story,” Dillon admitted. “There are parts you’ll have to ask Seth about. But from what I understand, Sunday he called and told Nur . . . er . . . my caregiver that he was going to come see me that evening. She agreed to tell me but never did.

“I went to bed very early that night. Looking back, I think she drugged me. When Seth arrived she held him at gunpoint and tied him to the bed in the guest room.” Belinda gasped. “He’s been there until tonight when I found him. I promise you, I didn’t know what she was doing, or I would have found some way to stop her before this.”

“But why would she do that?” Belinda asked. So far Eric hadn’t said a word and it was making Dillon nervous. Was Eric blaming him?

“She, well, she seems to have convinced herself that I’m her son,” Dillon said. “I don’t know what made her think it, but she thought Seth was going to try and take me from her, so she decided to stop him.”

“Is there any chance you are her son?” Eric asked softly.

“No, I remember my parents,” Dillon said. “My mother was, or rather still is as far as I know, a tall, thin woman that never said a kind word in her life. She didn’t care for me and would not have done something like this for the simple reason that she prides herself on being a ‘law-abiding’ woman.”

“Then I hope Nurse Sterning finds the help she needs,” Eric said. “Something awful must have happened to bring her to this state. I want to beat her for what she’s done to my brother, but based on what you’ve said I’m not sure she’d be able to tell she did anything wrong.”

“I forgot,” Dillon said. “You’re a psychologist, aren’t you?”

Before Eric could answer, someone called out, “Mr. Evans, Mr. Marshall!”

All four of them stood. Both Belinda and Jeremy moved to lead Dillon forward. He smiled and placed one hand on Jeremy’s arm, one hand on Belinda’s. As a unit they walked to where the doctor was waiting.

“I’m Dr. Kadamatsu,” he introduced himself, a thick Indian accent making his voice sound liquid. “I’ve been looking after Mr. Evans. I can see that the two of you are twins, although he seems to be a bit worse off than you just now.”

They silently waited for him to continue. “I’m admitting Mr. Evans for observation. He’s severely dehydrated and just a bit malnourished. He is beginning to develop a couple of decubitus ulcers, which are more commonly known as bed sores, from having been forced into the same position for so long. I want to make sure those don’t progress and are properly cared for. Finally, he has lesions from his struggles against his bindings. We’ll put a simple dressing over those and watch to make sure they don’t become infected.

“Now, I have told him that he can have ten minutes with his family before being moved upstairs. I’m sorry that I can’t allow you more, but he needs proper rest and fluids now.”

“We understand,” Eric said as they all began to move forward.

“Wait, it should only be family,” Dr. Kadamatsu said.

“We are all family,” Belinda responded unhesitatingly in a firm voice. Dr. Kadamatsu didn’t protest, but instead led them back to Seth.

Dillon was nervous as he entered the cubicle. He felt very much like an adolescent boy on his first date. It really made no sense, but he couldn’t shake the feeling. He was going to speak to Seth for the first time since they had shared the most amazing kiss of his life.

“Seth,” Belinda cried and pulled herself free from Dillon’s light grasp on her arm. Dillon could hear her softly crying and the sounds of clothing sliding together. He knew the three of them had to be hugging each other hard. He was feeling very much like a fifth wheel, useless and not needed.

Then Seth said his name. There was so much longing in his voice when he said it that Dillon found himself rushing forward, going on instinct. When his legs hit the bed he collapsed forward onto Seth. They held each other tightly, trembling, each clinging to the other.

“I’ve been so worried about you,” Dillon said into Seth’s shoulder.

“Probably about as much as I’ve been worried about you,” Seth replied, kissing the top of Dillon’s head. He pushed Dillon away just a bit, holding his shoulders. “I don’t want you to go home tonight. I don’t want you staying there by yourself. You can stay at my place if you want, Eric has an extra key, but please don’t stay at your house.”

Dillon shuddered. He had avoided thinking about going home. Somehow, in his mind, his house was no longer clean. It had been violated. It was no longer the safe haven it had once been. But he couldn’t impose on Seth’s generosity.

“Dillon can stay with me,” Jeremy spoke up. “Staying by himself at your house would be too difficult. He doesn’t know where anything is. He used to spend a lot of time at my house, so he should at least vaguely remember the location of important things, like the beer chest in the garage.”

Everyone laughed softly and Dillon burrowed into Seth’s arms again. They held each other, rocking back and forth, until the sound of a throat being cleared interrupted.

“Sorry,” said a male voice with a western twang, “but doc says it’s time for Mr. Evans to head to his room. Y’all are gonna have ta leave and come back tamarra.”

Reluctantly, Dillon pulled back from Seth. They shared a short kiss before Dillon rose from the bed. “I’ll call or come see you in the morning,” he promised.

“Not too early,” Seth’s voice sounded happy. “I’m going to sleep like the dead for a while and I want to be at my best when you arrive. That includes my first shower in almost a week.”

“Oh, is that what that smell is?” Belinda asked. 

**

Dillon lay on the bed in Jeremy’s guestroom, his arms folded behind his head. He was exhausted, but there was no way he could sleep. Too much had happened in too short a time for his mind to rest. 

What would happen to Nurse Sterning? Why didn’t he despise her? Right now, he actually felt a bit sorry for her. She had wanted so badly for him to be her son. The loss of her son must have been devastating for her. It had obviously scarred her deeply.

Of course, he didn’t want her out there, running around. He didn’t want to have to look over his shoulder the rest of his life and worry about anyone he loved. But did that mean he wanted her locked up behind bars? The answer should be a resounding yes, but for some reason it was not.

Then there was the problem of going home. He’d have to eventually. It was his house. He’d bought it seven years ago and was still making payments on it. He supposed he could put it up for sale, but with the way the economy was lately, he didn’t think he had a chance of getting its full value. Nor was he sure that he could get a bank to give him a new mortgage on another house. After all, while he had the settlement money, he currently had no job or job prospects. The bank might not believe that he was responsible enough not to throw away all that money at once.

Well, at least he had Carter to thank for making sure he’d be financially sound. Carter was used to dealing with large amounts of money, being a trust fund baby himself. He had put Dillon in contact with his own financial advisor not long after the settlement had come through and they had sat down to discuss his options. Dillon had opted to be conservative, but then he could now afford to do so. He didn’t need to try for large gains from risky ventures. As a result, he had a nice mix of money market accounts, CDs, and mutual funds. In addition, he had a Roth IRA into which he was going to add the maximum allowable amount on January of each year. He’d also rolled over his 401K from his old job to an IRA mutual fund. He even had a couple of annuities so that he could defer the taxes on part of his money. He had all the bases covered he was sure.

None of that, however, meant that he didn’t have to go home again. He did. He had no choice. It was sad really. He had so loved his house before the accident. It had been a bit of a fixer-upper when he first got it, he couldn’t afford much more than that, but he had taken some classes and done most of the work himself. The wood floors were a result of hours spent on his knees; the rugs that covered them were all his own choice. He had laid the deep, thick, carpeting in each bedroom not long after he finished repainting everything. The house was completely his and he’d loved coming home after a long, hard day at work. When he’d just wanted to be alone, his home was his haven. When he’d wanted to be sociable and host a party, his home had provided the perfect backdrop.

Now, thanks to Nurse Sterning, his house was not a place he wanted to think about. It felt dirty, somehow, unclean in a way that he couldn’t identify. Before he’d even known what she had done to Seth, it had become a prison. She had used it to cut him off from the world, taking advantage of the fact that there were only three phone jacks, of which only one was in the upstairs hall. She had easily been able to hide the fact that she had disconnected the phones thanks to the wiring in the house.

She had also taken advantage of the fact that his bedroom was in the back of the house. She had been able to get rid of people at the door before he had a chance to hear their voices. Jeremy had told him tonight of all the times that his friends had shown up at his house only to be told that he was out, away, or somehow unavailable. That whole time he was up in his room, wishing that they would swing by.

It was even worse that she had used his house to trap the man he loved. He couldn’t stand the thought of Seth in that room, bound to that bed, unable to cry out for help. It was a wonder that Seth hadn’t come unhinged from the whole thing. But Dillon, in a weird way, could relate to his experience. Nurse Sterning had found ways to keep both of them prisoners.

Dillon heard the door to the room he was in creak and he sat up. He didn’t know why Jeremy was coming into the room, but he was scared he hadn’t heard the phone and there was something wrong with Seth.

“I’m sorry, Dillon,” Jeremy said. “I just got a drink and thought I’d check on you. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“You didn’t,” Dillon responded. “I was awake. I can’t sleep.”

The carpet mostly muffled the sound of Jeremy’s footsteps, but Dillon could tell he was coming nearer. Then Jeremy sat beside Dillon on the bed and drew him into his arms.

“What am I going to do?” Dillon asked.

“What are you going to do about what?” Jeremy questioned in return.

“About the fact that I have to go home, about the fact that I don’t have anything to do with the rest of my life, about the fact that I’m in love with a man that just spent more than four days locked in my guest room.”




My Life is You Ch. 12



Jeremy sighed and rubbed Dillon’s back. “I don’t think you have to do anything about Seth. He loves you back and I think the two of you will manage things quite nicely without having to over-analyze things. 

“As for going home, you know you’re welcome here for as long as you want. Wait, don’t say anything. I know you’re going to say that you don’t want to be an imposition, but you honestly never could be. You’re my best friend and I love you. 

“I’ve read in books where people redecorate in order to change how they see a place, but unfortunately that just won’t do you any good. I’d say you can do one of two things.”

“And those would be?” Dillon asked.

“Well, selling your house would be my first suggestion. Of course, you’d have to buy another or move back into an apartment. But since I know you hated apartment living, I don’t see you doing that.”

“And the second suggestion?”

“As soon as you’re comfortable, take Seth home and screw his brains out in every room in the place. Best way I know of to cleanse a place.”

Dillon burst out laughing. He knew that Jeremy was mostly teasing, but there was definitely some truth to his words. What a wonderful way to get over his problems!

When Dillon calmed, they lay back on the bed. Jeremy held Dillon as they talked. Dillon poured out how lonely he had been and how lost he had felt. Jeremy responded with how much he had missed their friendship.

Then they spoke of Seth. Dillon explained how he felt when Seth was around. He described how his body tingled when Seth touched him. Last, he floundered as he tried to describe the way it felt to kiss the man you were in love with. Finally, he just gave up. He knew Jeremy understood as only a true friend could.

**

Dave led Dillon down the hospital corridor. The place smelled of antiseptic and illness. It reminded Dillon of his own lengthy stay at this very hospital. 

As they neared Seth’s door, Dillon heard Seth’s voice. At first it sounded like Seth was having a conversation with himself. But that made no sense. Then Dillon heard Belinda’s voice. Ah, he thought, Belinda and Eric must be visiting. Now that he knew it was two people with the same voice speaking, he could distinguish one from the other. Their tones were just slightly different. Luckily, it was enough that Dillon could tell one from the other.

“Dillon,” Dave said, taking Dillon’s hand off his arm. “Just a few more steps and you’ll be at Seth’s room. It’s on the right. I have some errands to run and not a lot of time to do them, so I’m going to leave you here, ok?”

“Sure, Dave,” Dillon said, feeling confused. “But I thought you said your day was free. If I’d known you were busy I never would have imposed.”

“My day is free,” Dave assured him. “I don’t have to work, I just have to do some errands. I’ll be back to pick you up in a couple of hours.”

“Thanks, I appreciate the ride,” Dillon said.

“Anytime,” Dave responded before placing Dillon’s hand on the wall and walking away.

Dillon trailed his hand along the wall as he moved forward. Only three steps later his fingers encountered a doorjamb. He knocked lightly on the halfway open door before walking in. “Hi,” he said softly.

All conversation halted. Dillon hovered uncertainly in the doorway. Then he felt someone take his hand. Judging by the size and the smoothness of the skin, he was guessing it was Belinda.

“Here’s the man of the hour!” she declared. “Dillon, you’ll never know how grateful we are to you,” her voice rang with sincerity.

“Grateful to me?” Dillon asked, confused. If it hadn’t been for him, Seth never would have been tied to a bed and held hostage. Why on earth would they be grateful to him?

“Oh, yes,” Belinda replied. “That woman was going to kill Seth last night. She told him so. If you hadn’t rescued him when you did, we would have lost Seth forever. We can never thank you enough for saving him.”

“But it’s my fault he was put in that situation in the first place!” Dillon burst out. “If it weren’t for me, none of this would have happened!”

“That’s not true,” Eric’s voice was filled with conviction. It was funny how Dillon could tell the difference between Seth and Eric’s voice. He doubted many could. “Nurse Sterning is the reason this happened. She’s the one who acted in an inappropriate manner, not you. No matter what, she would have done this. You’re the reason it didn’t turn out worse than it did.”

“Seth, you have to agree with me,” Dillon pleaded. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, but it’s my fault it did.”

“I’ll agree with you,” Seth responded. “It is your fault. Because of you, I fell in love. You had to go and be strong. You had to be charming. You had to be caring. You had to be loving. You had to be damn good to look at and touch. You had to be so sensual that my heart pounds like crazy every time you’re around. You did all that. If you hadn’t, I never would have come to your house on Sunday. I never would have worried about you, dreamed about you, every moment we were apart. 

“But then, if you weren’t all that, I’d still be alone. I’d still have no one to call my own. Would I trade that to get those four days and change back? Never. You’re the most important thing in my life, Dillon, and I’d go through anything to have you.”

**

Dillon was so excited he could barely sit still. Today was the day that Seth was coming home from the hospital. Ok, maybe not home, since the two of them were going to stay with Jeremy for a few more days, but he’d be leaving the hospital. 

Tonight they would sleep in the same bed for the first time. That alone was enough to make him tremble. He doubted they’d do anything vigorous, Seth was probably still too weak, but just the thought of getting to hold Seth all night, well, that was a wonderful thought. 

When the doorbell rang, Dillon sat straight up, almost quivering. He felt a bit like a dog, ecstatic to see his human after a long separation. If he’d been able to, his ears would be perked forward and he’d have a tail waving frantically.

Eric was bringing Seth here. Originally Seth had wanted to go to his own home, but everyone had protested. The last thing he needed now was being where nobody could baby him. Of course, Dillon would have been more than willing to do it himself, but it wouldn’t have really worked since Seth would have spent all his time showing Dillon where things were and helping Dillon learn the layout of the house.

Eric’s house hadn’t really been a feasible solution either. He and Belinda had a small place and the second bedroom was currently being used as an office. There was a pull-out couch in there, but it would make the confines so close that Dillon would be sure to have permanent bruises on his shins from running into things.

That had left Jeremy’s house. Neither Dillon nor Seth had wanted to impose themselves, but Jeremy had insisted he’d be thrilled with the company. After some thought, Dillon had realized that Jeremy was being one-hundred-percent genuine. He was such a family man that having the house full fulfilled one of his dreams.

Now Dillon stood up. He was turned toward the door, or, at least, he thought he was, but he figured even if he weren’t facing it dead-on, it would be close enough. His hands were sweaty and trembling and he nervously wiped them against his jeans-clad thighs. His heart was beating such a rapid tattoo in his chest that he was surprised he couldn’t feel his shirt jumping up and down atop it.

The rumble of male voices came from the hall. They were too low for him to understand anything, but they were close enough for him to recognize them. His heart beat even harder, if that were possible, and he tried to swallow.

Footsteps entered the room and paused. Dillon said nothing, just waiting. Then, that voice spoke again, “Hello, Dillon.”

“Hello, Brad,” Dillon squeaked out.



My Life is You Ch. 13



Seth was very proud of the fact that he was a patient person. He knew that it would get him nowhere to rant and rave when there was a long line at the grocery store or the person driving in front of him was coasting along at ten miles per hour below the posted speed limit. Oh sure, those were annoyances, but they were so minor in comparison to life's major annoyances that he just didn't bother getting upset about them.

When he did become impatient, he made it a point not to take it out on innocent bystanders. An over-worked waitress just couldn't help it if she took just a moment longer to get his food to the table. No matter how hungry he was or how much of a hurry he was in, if she were doing her best, he couldn't fault her. The same went for visits to the doctor's office. Everyone always seemed to get upset when they were kept waiting for a long time, but the moment they got in there, they wanted to discuss every ailment, every ache, every pain, every symptom they could think of; they did not want the doctor rushing off to see another patient until they were through.

Having said all this, Seth was definitely feeling impatient at the moment and he was close to the boiling point. He rarely let his temper go, which made it all the more dangerous once it was allowed to erupt. He watched as nurses bustled up and down the hall or stood at the nurse's station across from his room and gossiped about their evenings from yesterday.

It was 9:00 a.m. and he had been told he'd be released at 8:00 a.m. His brother was here and Seth was ready to go. Dillon was waiting for him and this would be their first chance to spend the whole day together without either of them hiding their feelings.

Of course, that could only happen if he could manage to LEAVE THE DAMN HOSPITAL! Seth sighed and rubbed his forehead with one hand, trying to remind himself that getting upset would do him no good. 

It didn't work. Pushing off from the bed, he began to pace the room. Since it was a small semi-private hospital room (and he was incredibly grateful that he had not had a roommate this go-around!) pacing consisted more of marching from the nightstand to the opposite wall four strides away, executing a smart turn, and marching back only to start over again. Eric simply sat in the chair placed in the corner by the window and watched him, saying nothing.

Even that got on Seth's nerves all of a sudden. Usually he and Eric could communicate without ever saying anything. They were always comfortable just being together, even if nothing was ever said. Today, though, Seth only wanted to see one person and Eric wasn't him.

He whirled, starting toward the door. Rude or not, Seth was ready to demand that the nurses get off their asses and find his doctor so that he could be discharged. Before he even reached the door he turned back again. Yelling at the nurses would do no good. They didn't have the authority to summon his doctor if his life weren't in danger.

An hour later and Seth was feeling more like a caged animal than ever before. He was bristling with impatience, his hands clenching in fists as he fought to restrain himself. 

Finally the doctor arrived for his final check-up before he could be released. Seth barely managed to restrain himself throughout the exam. He was obvious in his impatience, he couldn't help it, but he refused to be rude.

The final formality was almost the last straw. He had been walking for the past two hours, pacing up and down his room. It seemed absurd to require him to ride in a wheelchair as he left. When he pointed that out to the orderly standing next to the wheelchair, he was just given a blank look. Seth sighed and got in. Catching sight of Eric's attempt to hide a grin, he growled.

"I love you too, baby bro," Eric replied.

The sun was bright in the sky as they left the hospital. Eric had run ahead to get his car while Seth was being brought down. Now, the black Saturn Ion sat idling at the curb. Eric opened the door with a grin as the orderly wheeled the chair forward. Extending his hand, Eric offered Seth a pair of sunglasses and he gratefully took them, slipping them onto his face.

Once they were in the car and driving off the hospital's property, Seth leaned his head back against the seat with a sigh. "I was beginning to think they were never going to let me go."

"I noticed," Eric chuckled. "What happened to my patient little brother?"

"He fell in love and then wasn't allowed to spend any time with his man!" Seth replied.

"Well, we're on the way there now, so you don't need to scowl anymore. You wouldn't want to scare Jeremy into slamming the door in your face, now do you?"

Seth couldn't stop a smile from forming on his face. The closer they got to Dillon, the lighter his heart felt. By the time they pulled into Jeremy's driveway, Seth felt as though he could have floated to the door.

When Jeremy answered the door, there was a tense expression on his face. "Hey, Seth, how you feeling?" he asked, stepping back to let them in.

"Great!" Seth replied. "It's so good to be free and I can't wait to see Dillon. Is he in the living room? Never mind, I hear his voice," Seth said, following the sound of Dillon's voice. He didn't notice the hand Jeremy raised to stop him.

Entering the living room of Jeremy's house, Seth looked around. Dillon was seated on a couch next to a man Seth didn't recognize. Before Seth could even open his mouth to speak, Dillon took the man's hand and said, "You know I'll always love you Brad." 

**

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" Brad asked.

"And if I say no?" Dillon responded, sinking back down onto the couch.

"Then, I'll go away," Brad said. "But I think we'll always both regret that we didn't have this conversation."

"I guess it's a pretty important conversation then," Dillon reasoned. "We might as well have it."

He felt the cushion next to him sink as Brad sat down next to him. There was an awkward silence. Brad didn't seem to know how to start and Dillon wasn't really sure he had much to say.

"I heard what happened," Brad began hesitantly. "Are you alright?"

"I'm pretty good," Dillon said. "Definitely better than Seth. He went through a lot more than I ever did."

Again there was an uncomfortable silence. Finally, Brad cleared his throat and tried again, "About this thing with Seth . . ."

Dillon waited. He didn't know that his relationship with Seth was any of Brad's business and he took offense at having it called a "thing", so he didn't feel any need to respond.

"I mean, how serious are the two of you?"

"Very serious," Dillon answered honestly. "Seth is more to me than you could ever imagine."

"Does that mean there's no longer room for me in your life?" Brad questioned.

Floored would be a good way to describe Dillon at that point. The question Brad had just asked was the last one Dillon had expected to come out of his mouth. Brad had wanted out of his life. He hadn't asked to leave, he had told Dillon he was leaving. Now he was saying that he wanted back in?

"You didn't want to be in my life," Dillon reminded Brad, trying to hide the pain in his voice. He didn't succeed.

Mistakenly, Brad took that to mean that Dillon still had feelings for him. He didn't understand that Dillon was reacting to being abandoned at the worst time, not to the loss of their relationship. "I was scared!" Brad exclaimed. "Everything had changed and I blamed myself. How could I not? I didn't think I was strong enough,"

"Obviously you weren't," Dillon replied. "After all, if you had been you never would have left."

"Yes, you're right," Brad sighed. "I could say I was scared and weak again, but that's no real excuse. I am sorry. What I did, well, it was awful."

"You're not going to get any argument from me," Dillon said. "It was awful. But in a weird way, I can understand it."

"You can?" Brad's voice was incredulous.

"Well, don't you think I would have walked away from it all if I could have?" Dillon pointed out. "I didn't want to be lying in that hospital bed anymore than you wanted to see me there. Blind? Hell no I didn't want to be blind! If I could have just turned my back on it all I would have."

"So, then you forgive me?"

"No, I don't, at least, not yet," Dillon admitted. "How can I? I didn't have a choice about walking out, you did. And that's exactly what you did. I needed to know I wasn't alone, that when I had lost so much, I wasn't going to lose everything. Your leaving made me feel that I had."

"I really screwed up, didn't I?" Brad asked.

"Yeah, you did," Dillon said. "But, it all worked out for the best in the end. I learned that I'm stronger than I ever realized and I found the man I love. I wouldn't trade the chance to be with him for the chance to have my sight back. I want him more."

"So, then, I have no chance of ever getting you back, do I? I love you, but you don't love me." There was a wealth of pain in Brad's voice. He sounded defeated and dejected.

Dillon picked up Brad's hand, trying to think how to phrase what he had to say. They had been friends long before they were lovers and Dillon wasn't willing to totally turn his back on Brad now. 

He took a deep breath and spoke, hoping to say this in the right way. "You know I'll always love you Brad."

"So, what was I? The flavor of the week?" At the unexpected sound of Seth's voice, Dillon whipped his head around toward the door. He had been so caught up in his conversation with Brad that he had never even heard Seth enter the room.

"Well? Are you going to answer me?" Seth's voice was bitter.

"I-I didn't know you were there," was all Dillon could think to stammer out.

"Yeah, I guess you wouldn't be making up to your old boyfriend with your new boyfriend watching, now would you?" Seth spat out. "Don't worry, though. I'm out of here. Brad, he's all yours."

Dillon cried out, "Seth, wait! It's not what you think!"

The only reply that greeted him was the slamming of Jeremy's front door. Dillon moved as fast as he could toward the foyer. He misjudged his direction, however, and ran right into the corner of the lamp table. It struck him in his most vulnerable spot. He cried out in pain again. He just wasn't sure which hurt worse, his body or his heart.

**

Brad had left not long after Seth did. Dillon was left alone with Jeremy, who sat silently next to him on the couch. Every once in a while Dillon would hit the redial button on the cordless phone he held in his hand. Each time Seth's answering machine picked up he would leave a new message.

At first, they were long messages. He tried to explain himself, tried to let Seth know that there was so much more he had meant to say to Brad after that one statement. He had been going to tell Brad that he would never throw away their friendship, that he would always love Brad as a friend, but that it could never be more than friendship ever again.

Now, Dillon left messages that were more a plea than anything else. He begged Seth to call him, to hear him out. Each time he got the answering machine, his hope died a little more.

He had just found Seth. Was their relationship going to die before it even began?

No! Dillon decided that he refused to let that happen. They had both been through so much, survived so much. This one thing couldn't be the beginning of the end.

"Jeremy, can you drive me to Seth's house?" Dillon asked, turning toward Jeremy on the couch beside him.

"I've just been waiting for you to ask," Jeremy's voice was cheerful. "Let's go."

They rose and Jeremy led Dillon to his new Honda Civic hybrid. Dillon settled himself comfortably into the front seat. He wasn't sure exactly what he was going to say to Seth, but he knew he needed to try.

The ride both dragged on forever and flew by. Dillon was anxious to arrive, but at the same time wanted lots of time to plan how he was going to approach Seth. When Jeremy stopped the car in Seth's driveway, Dillon still didn't feel prepared.

His heart pounded a frantic beat as he listened to the doorbell call for someone to answer it. The sound of footfalls approached the door. He wasn't sure how he could tell, but he knew it was Eric approaching the door rather than Seth. They were exactly the same, even down to their weight, but Dillon could tell the difference.

The door swung open and suddenly Dillon was at a loss for words. What was he supposed to say? How could he convince Eric to let him in to see Seth?

Dillon heard Eric sigh before speaking, "He's not here. He just left to take a walk."

"What do you mean?" Jeremy asked. "He just got out of the hospital, he shouldn't be walking."

"Yes, well, my brother's stubborn that way. He wanted to take a walk and nothing and nobody was going to stop him."

All Dillon really heard was that Seth wasn't there. He had just missed Seth. If he had spent just a few minutes less procrastinating and got off his behind a few minutes earlier, he could be talking to Seth now instead of hearing that Seth was gone.

"Come in, Dillon," Eric said gently. "You can wait here until Seth gets back."

"I don't know," Dillon replied. "Would he really want me in his house just now?"

"If he were thinking clearly he would," Eric assured Dillon. "Seth loves you and spent all morning frantic to get to you. By the time he gets back, he's going to have realized he was an idiot for not waiting to find out what was going on. If you're already here you'll save me a trip back to Jeremy's place."

Dillon turned toward Jeremy, a questioning look on his face. "Go on, Dillon," Jeremy urged. "All you have to do is pick up the phone if you need me, but I think you'll be happier getting this straightened out now than waiting for things to miraculously get better."

Enfolding Jeremy in his arms, Dillon gave him a fierce hug. Jeremy had to be the most understanding, supportive friend Dillon had ever had. There was a time when Dillon had even had a crush on Jeremy, but he had quickly realized that the love he felt for this special man was not romantic in nature.

Stepping back from the embrace, Dillon allowed Eric to lead him into Seth's house. Just before the front door swung shut, Dillon heard the engine of Jeremy's car start.

Eric led Dillon up a half flight of stairs and into a room. Guiding Dillon to a couch, Eric then turned off the television. The sounds of a baseball game being played out ceased.

"Did you want anything to drink?" Eric asked.

"Just some water," Dillon responded. He was feeling a bit dehydrated and knew that he needed to drink something even if he didn't feel as though he could swallow.

"One glass of water coming up."

By the sounds of it, Eric didn't move far away. Dillon surmised that he was in a living or family room and that it was connected directly onto the kitchen. A moment later a cool glass of water was placed in Dillon's hand.

"You know," Eric said as he sat down next to Dillon, "Seth is actually a big believer in the powers of communication. I've never seen him blow up like that before. That, right there, tells me that you mean more to him than any man ever has. I don't think you really have anything to worry about."

"I hope you're right," Dillon said after forcing down a sip of his water. "Seth means more to me than any man ever has, either, so I don't want to lose him. Especially over such a stupid misunderstanding."

"No misunderstanding is stupid," Eric responded. "As long as it hurts those involved, it is of the utmost importance. You and Seth have to work this out so that you can go forward as I know you were meant to do."

"And if Seth doesn't want to work it out?"

"You'd be surprising how forgiving those we love can be."

"I don't understand," Dillon said.

Eric took a deep breath. "I'll tell you something about me and Belinda as long as you promise never to speak of it with anyone outside the family,"

"If it's family business, then you shouldn't tell it to me," Dillon protested, a bit uncomfortable at the idea of being told a family secret.

"Yes, I should," Eric disagreed. "After all, you are family now. You and Seth may be arguing, but I can tell you are the one meant to be with him."

Dillon couldn't argue that. In his heart of hearts, he knew it to be true. He and Seth were meant to spend their lives together. That would make Eric and Belinda hiss, even if it wasn't legally true.

"Belinda once forgave me for something I still haven't forgiven myself for," Eric began. "If you had asked me at the time, I would have told you that my actions were beyond forgiveness, but Belinda's love for me was stronger than her hatred of what I had done."

Despite himself, Dillon found he was intrigued. He couldn't imagine what Eric could have done that was so awful. Oh, he might have cheated on her, but people worked past that sort of thing when it only happened once and the relationship was worth saving. Nor could he imagine Eric being physically abusive.

Dillon started to ask, but then realized he didn't need to. Eric had continued speaking without prompting. It was as if he were caught in his own memory, unable to escape until it was played out.

"It wasn't long after we were married," Eric said. "Five months, actually. We were still settling into our own home, not the one we have now, a bigger one. We were in that honeymoon phase that doesn't really go away for the first year, constantly kissing and touching. We couldn't keep our hands off of each other."

Eric gave a bitter laugh. "Ironic, really, when you think about it. I look back at that part of our lives with such pleasure, but it led to such pain.

"I had just come home from a medical conference that was out of town. I had been away for a week, longer than Belinda and I had been apart since we met. I came rushing into the house, desperate to see her.

"She was in the dining room. It was all lit-up with candles and I remember how beautiful she looked in that soft light. She was dressed in a peach nightgown that left very little to the imagination and her blond hair was straight that day, hanging down to almost her waist.

"I picked her up from the chair she sat in and spun her around, kissing her wildly. She laughed and told me we had something to celebrate. I thought she meant that we had survived our first week away from each other without going insane,"

Eric fell silent, remembering. Dillon just waited. He couldn't intrude himself upon Eric at this point, yet he knew he'd understand so much more about the family of the man he loved if he just patiently waited.

"She stopped me, placing her hands on my face and kissing me so tenderly. There was so much love in that kiss. Then she said she had a surprise for me. I closed my eyes. I don't really know why, but it seemed like the natural thing to do. She took my hand and placed it on her belly and then told me, 'Your baby's in there,'"

Dillon's eyes widened and he jerked in surprise. He hadn't been expecting this. After all, Belinda and Eric had no children. Nor had Seth ever said anything about having a niece or a nephew.

"She had found out the day after I left for my trip. She had gone for her yearly exam and the doctor had discovered she was pregnant. Belinda said she couldn't wait to tell me, but she knew she wanted to see my face when I heard the news.

"Well, that wasn't the best idea. We had talked about having kids, but always off in the unidentified future. I was in shock. All I could think was, 'Not yet! I still want you to myself!' Lord, I was selfish. And Belinda can always tell what I'm thinking. She knew I wasn't happy.

"I pulled back. I needed time to think. I just couldn't wrap my mind around the idea that I was going to be a father and that this baby was a part of both of us. So, I just left.

"I'm not a drinking man. Up until that night, I had never gotten more than buzzed. I got fall-down drunk that night, though. It's the first and only time I've been that way. 




My Life is You Ch. 13



"Around two a.m. I poured myself into a cab and came home. Belinda was still awake. When I walked in the door she was waiting at the top of the stairs. I stumbled up them toward her. She reached out to help me. After I had abandoned her at one of her happiest moments, she was going to help me to bed.

"That alone made me feel even worse. Here I had been an absolute shit, and she still loved me enough to try and help me to bed. I shoved her away, not even thinking about where we were.

"The next thing I saw was that gorgeous hair of hers billowing out as she fell over the railing of the stairs. I remember it glistened around her even as she plummeted down to the tile of the foyer."

There were tears in Eric's voice now. He swallowed before going on. "Then there was this awful sound. It was the sound of her body hitting the floor. I rushed so fast down the stairs that I more fell down them than anything. She wasn't moving and I thought she was dead. But then I felt her pulse and saw her chest rise, so I rushed to call for an ambulance.

"We were lucky. There was one near by and they arrived within just a moment or so. They stabilized her and transported her to the hospital. Crestwick Sinai. You know it well.

"I almost lost Belinda that night. She did lose the baby. Even more, her splintered pelvis tore apart her uterus and she lost that too. They had to do a full hysterectomy in order to stop the bleeding."

Dillon's heart was pounding in his chest. He would never have imagined something like this lay between Eric and Belinda. They were always too loving toward each other.

"I was terrified the first time I went to see her. I thought for sure she wouldn't want to see me, wouldn't want anything to do with me. How wrong I was. Belinda loves me and she said from the beginning that she knew I never meant to push her.

"Every time I saw her at the hospital, she was happy I was there. I kept waiting for her to reject me, but she didn't. All she asked was that I sell the house and buy a ranch, one where she would never have to go up the stairs. That's how we ended up where we are. It was the only available ranch on such short notice."

"I never would have guessed," Dillon said softly.

"That's because Belinda has truly forgiven me. Oh, she still has sad times when she remembers that she'll never have a baby, but she honestly doesn't blame me for that. I don't know how it's possible, but she doesn't.

"It's amazing how much love, true, strong love, can do. It can help people overcome anything if they just work at it together."

Dillon was forced to agree. After all, Belinda and Eric were a testament to the power of love. And Eric was right. If Belinda could forgive him for that, than surely Seth would find a way to forgive Dillon.

**

Walking hadn't been as good an idea as it had seemed. For one thing, his body just wasn't ready for it. He had already pushed it with all the pacing he had done in the hospital room, now his body was trembling in exhaustion.

It frustrated him to no end that he couldn't even go for a simple walk. Just a week ago he had been a perfectly healthy specimen, able to go jogging for a good hour before he truly felt winded. Now he couldn't even walk easily around the block.

Instead, he was sitting on a bench at the bus stop, trying to summon the energy for the walk back. The heat of the day was draining what little strength he had left and he hadn't even thought to bring along water. It was stupid of him, but he hadn't really thought of this as vigorous exercise.

The truth was, he didn't want to go home. Not that he wasn't comfortable in his place, but it just wasn't where he wanted to be right now. Ever since they had made the arrangements for him to stay with Dillon at Jeremy's place, that had been all he looked forward to. He had dreamed of holding Dillon, of falling asleep next to him. Now, that wasn't going to happen.

Had he just been a plaything to Dillon? He found that hard to believe. For one thing, he and Dillon had never even really played together. For another, Dillon just didn't seem like the kind of guy to toy with a man's affections that way. Yet, how could he ignore what he had heard? It still echoed in his head, "You know I'll always love you Brad."

He shook his head violently, trying to clear those words from his mind. Even worse was the tender way in which Dillon had said them. His voice had rang with sincerity.

But then, he had been pretty convincing Thursday night too. Seth hadn't hesitated to believe him when he had professed his love. Was Dillon that talented an actor? Or was he maybe one of those men that constantly fell in and out of love.

Seth rejected that idea the moment he thought of it. Dillon might have been going through a lot lately, but he was still an extremely stable individual. He wasn't the type to blithely jump from relationship to relationship. 

Seth sighed and started to stand up. Before he could even turn to take a step, a mineral grey Honda Civic hybrid pulled to a stop before him. The window descended and he saw Jeremy in the driver's seat, leaning toward him across the passenger side.

"Would you like a ride home or were you planning on taking a bus somewhere?" Jeremy asked.

Seth moved toward the car. He was shocked and dismayed to find that he had stiffened up during the short time he had sat on the bench. "Hey Jeremy," he said. "Thanks for the offer, but I can walk. It's not far."

"Well, that's true," Jeremy replied. "But since you're moving like an old man, I doubt it would be a good idea. Why don't you take me up on my offer? I promise, I won't bite or bug you about anything you don't want to talk about."

After debating his options, Seth was forced to admit that it would be a much better idea to ride home than to walk. He opened the car door and carefully lowered himself into the passenger seat. Once Jeremy was sure that he was properly seat belted in, the car pulled away from the curb.

"If you just take a right here I live just . . ."

"I know where you live," Jeremy interrupted. "I was just going to drive around the block instead of turning around. I thought it might be easier."

"How do you know where I live?" Seth asked, looking sideways at Jeremy. 

Jeremy took a deep breath before answering. It was clear to Seth that he was nervous about his reply. "I know because I just dropped Dillon off there," he rushed to get out.

"Stop the car!' Seth commanded. Jeremy threw him a startled look before pulling over into the parking lot of a convenience store. "Do you mean to tell me that Dillon is back at my house right now?"

"Eric let him in," was the only reply that came from Jeremy's mouth.

Seth dropped his head into his hands. Could he really handle facing Dillon just now? On the other hand, wouldn't it be worse to put it off?

"He loves you, you know," Jeremy said softly.

"No, he loves Brad," Seth disagreed. "I know because I heard him say it,"

"Yes, you did," Jeremy replied. "And it's true. Dillon will always love Brad. But, he has never been in love with Brad. They were friends long before there was anything romantic between them. Dillon's not the type of guy to give up friendships easily, so I'm sure Brad will always be a part of his life."

"You want me to just accept that the man I'm in love with will always love his ex-boyfriend?" Seth demanded.

"Yes, I do," Jeremy said, looking out the windshield. "Part of loving Dillon is accepting who and what he is. Well, he's a loving man, one that doesn't turn his back on people. Even people that have let him down. Once he gives his heart, he doesn't ask for it back. He gave Brad his love when they became friends. He's not going to take it away now.

"But the love he's given you is so much more. It's the kind that is deeper and more profound than anything he has with anyone else. It's the kind of love that truly great relationships are based on. Dillon will never turn his back on you, he'll never betray you, he'll never purposefully hurt you.

"In return, he asks for your trust and love. He wants a man that will stand behind him and support him, even when nothing makes sense. I guess it's up to you to decide whether or not you can be that kind of man. I'm hoping you can. I'm hoping that when I pull this car up in front of your house, you'll go in there with the intention of making my best friend incredibly happy instead of breaking his heart." 



My Life is You Ch. 14



HI ALL. THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT! I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS CHAPTER. LET ME KNOW, BOTH THROUGH VOTES AND COMMENTS. I ENJOY BOTH. NOW, ON WITH DILLON AND SETH'S STORY.

At the sound of the front door opening, Dillon carefully put his glass down onto the table beside the couch. He nervously wiped his suddenly sweaty palms on the material covering his thighs as he fought to swallow his last sip of water. 

The footsteps ascending the stairs could only belong to Seth. Dillon would recognize the energy behind them anywhere. It was muted a bit at the moment, but it would always be there. No matter what was happening in his life, Seth would still have a certain vitality that could never be stolen from him.

Then Seth was there. He stood in the doorway of the family room and Dillon scented him the way a wolf scents its mate. Seth's warmth seemed to reach out to Dillon across the room and enfold him. Dillon wasn't even sure if things could be salvaged between the two of them, but just being close to Seth again created a greater feeling of peace than Dillon could ever have imagined. Unseen by either man, Eric slipped quietly from the room so that they could be alone.

"Do you really love him?" the sound of Seth's voice was ragged and hoarse. The question was a cry from Seth's soul.

"Yes, as a friend, I do," Dillon replied. He could have denied it. He had even considered it for the briefest of moments. But what good was a relationship based on lies? It wouldn't last because it would have no true foundation. Dillon wanted them to have a relationship that stood the test of time, which meant the foundation needed to be rock solid.

"Even after he abandoned you?"

Dillon lowered his head. If he could have seen, he would have been staring at his hands. "When I gave Brad my friendship, I accepted him, all of him. That includes his flaws. He's not a strong or a brave man. I knew that, even if I never fully realized how weak he is.

"I won't ever depend on him again. It would be useless for me to do so, because I would only be disappointed. But I won't turn my back on him just because he's not as strong as I would like him to be."

"Do you give that loyalty, understanding, and forgiveness to all you love?" There was a note in Seth's voice that Dillon couldn't recognize. He would almost call it longing, but that wouldn't fit the conversation they were having.

"I hope I do," Dillon said. "I try to."

"Then, please Dillon, I'm in need of some of it now. Don't turn away from me because I was stupid enough to turn away from you. Forgive me for jumping to conclusions and walking out. I love you and need you so much!"

Hearing the tears in Seth's voice, Dillon rose and moved forward. He extended his hands, reaching out toward Seth. Just after his second step he felt his fingers meet Seth's, who had moved to meet him.

"You have more from me than anyone," Dillon said. "You have a love that no one else has. When I said I'd love you forever, I meant it."

He would have said more, meant to say more, but it was difficult to talk when your lips are pressed against those of someone else. After just a second in Seth's arms, any thought of speech was gone from Dillon's head. His whole body, mind, and soul were concentrated on Seth and the feel of Seth's body against his own.

Breathing, however, is a necessity of life. All too soon, it came down to a decision of whether to keep kissing Seth and die happily in his arms or pull back and replenish himself. Dillon might have opted for the first choice if he hadn't realized the second choice could lead to future occurrences of kissing and so much more.

They rested their foreheads together, sharing the air they sucked into their starving lungs. "I have to warn you that I'm a jealous man," Seth stated after he caught his breath. "I can handle your still being friends with Brad, but there will be times when I'll have trouble with the way he looks at you."

"How does he look at me?" Dillon asked, confused.

"Like you still belong to him," Seth explained. "Brad still thinks you're his and even if you don't feel that way about him, it's going to bug me some."

"I don't think you have to worry," Dillon assured Seth. "Brad knows that you're the man I love and that all I'll ever feel toward him is friendship."

A jaw-popping yawn suddenly emerged from Seth, surprising them both. "I'm sorry," Seth apologized. "I didn't realize I was tired."

"Tired and hungry, probably," Dillon responded. "It's been a long, hard day for having just come out of the hospital. I think I need to take care of my man."

"I like the sound of that," Seth murmured in a low voice, stroking his hands up and down Dillon's back. "I like being called your man and hearing that you want to care for me."

"I do. I always want us to care for each other," Dillon said, his own hands gliding up and down Seth's strong arms. "Unfortunately, though, I don't know where anything is here, so taking care of you is going to consist of my yelling for Eric,"

Seth laughed, the sound lighting up Dillon's heart. "Whatever works,"

**

An hour later Dillon sighed in contentment. Eric had provided a simple lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. The comfort of a warm, childhood lunch had hit exactly the right spot.

Now, he was snuggled down with Seth in bed. Seth's arms were wrapped around him as they spooned and the soft, even sound of Seth's breath told Dillon that Seth was deeply asleep. 

Dillon snuggled back against Seth's chest, reveling in the feel of bare skin against bare skin. A very light coating of hair was tickling his back. Arms that were satiny skin encasing steely muscles banded around him. The light puff of Seth's breath against the back of his neck kept sending shivers racing down his spine.

He was tired. When they had come in here, Dillon had believed he would sleep along with Seth. Now, though, he just wanted to revel in the feel of being here with Seth.

Eventually, though, the overly emotional day got to him. Feeling safe, secure, and well loved, Dillon drifted off to sleep.

**

Dillon murmured in his sleep, stretching and moving slightly. His body was tingling pleasantly and he fought not to wake. Grasping the object in his hand, he brought it up and bit lightly into it as a bolt of pleasure shot through him. Only when he heard a low chuckle did Dillon realize that he had just taken a bite out of Seth's hand.

Then he realized where Seth's other hand was. Moaning, he sucked one of Seth's fingers into his mouth, running his tongue up and down the length. The slightly salty flavor of Seth's skin caused Dillon's mouth to water.

Against his ass, Dillon could feel Seth's cock hardening and lengthening. He had no idea how big it was, but it felt plentiful at the moment. 

Then Seth moved his hand again, his fingers circling the knob of Dillon's cock. Dillon's hips spasmed lightly in reaction, his cock thrusting forward into Seth's hand.

Turning over onto his back, Dillon drew Seth over him and down into an intense kiss. Their tongues mated as they sank into each other. Seth's lips were firm and warm against Dillon's own and Dillon couldn't resist pulling back just enough to lightly nip Seth's lower lip.

Then they deepened the kiss again. Dillon could feel all the love Seth was pouring into that kiss. He reveled in the emotion they shared as they allowed themselves the luxury of just kissing.

Never before had they had a moment like this. Always before, there was something pulling at them, demanding their time and energy. Now, though, they had the leisure to explore each other and their mutual feelings. Nothing was rushed or hurried. Each kiss was lengthy and languorous.

Reaching up, Dillon wrapped his arms around Seth's neck. Their chests pressed together, hardened nipples rubbing against each other. Seth's cock was firm against Dillon's left thigh and his own cock was rising to rub against Seth's hip.

Dillon felt Seth's hand moving over his hip and underneath him. Seth's fingers were stroking over one of Dillon's ass cheeks and Dillon did his best to raise his hips, hoping that Seth would take the hint.

Then Seth did. One of his fingers trailed down the valley separating Dillon's ass cheeks. Dillon sighed into Seth's mouth, his hand tangling in Seth's hair. He didn't know what color Seth's hair was and up until this moment he hadn't even realized that Seth wore it long, reaching almost down to his shoulders. It must have been back in a ponytail each time they had kissed previously or been in contact during therapy sessions. Now, it hung down free and silky, thick between Dillon's fingers.

His other hand stroked down Seth's back, savoring the feel of the muscles he found there. Seth's body was firm and hard against his own, yielding lightly to Dillon's touch, but never giving more than Dillon wanted.

Then they rolled together so that Dillon now lay atop Seth. His leg slipped down between Seth's, his thigh brushing against Seth's hard cock. Bracing his hands on either side of Seth's shoulders, Dillon leaned down and sucked at the spot beneath Seth's chin. He allowed himself the chance to leisurely kiss his way down Seth's neck, savoring the warmth of Seth's skin.

A musky scent arose in the bedroom. It was made up of their arousal and their sweat as they moved together, restraining themselves from sprinting to the finish line. This wasn't a race to be won or lost, but rather a journey, one they wanted to completely experience.

Sitting up, his legs straddling Seth's torso, Dillon allowed himself to explore. He ran his fingers down Seth's chest, seeing with his fingertips what his eyes no longer could. Seth was well built, muscular, but not cut like men who were body-builders. While it was obvious that he exercised and cared for his body, Seth's muscles weren't only from a gym.

The hair covering Seth's chest was light, only thickening around his nipples. There was almost no more until just below Seth's navel, where it led in a trail to Seth's penis. 

Dillon didn't stop here, though he longed to. He very much wanted to wrap his fingers around the tube of flesh and stroke it, bringing Seth great pleasure. More, though, he wanted to learn all of his lover. He wanted to experience his man completely.

Seth's legs were long and corded with muscle. He was more densely furred here, his hair crisp against Dillon's palms. Along one knee, part of the skin felt different. Dillon realized that it was a scar of some kind. Seth must have hurt himself badly some time in the past. Leaning down, Dillon kissed the raised flesh, wanting to use his mouth to tease away any past hurts.

"Turn over," Dillon asked, sitting up again. He raised himself off Seth's legs so that he wasn't blocking movement. Seth complied and Dillon sank back down. Lowering his hands, he slid them up the back of Seth's thighs to the perfect ass that sat atop them.

Then Dillon did something he had never done before. He leaned down and ran his tongue along the crack of Seth's ass. He knew others had done it, had even had it done to himself. Up until that moment, he would have said there was no way he would ever consider doing it to another. But with Seth, everything was different, everything felt natural.

Dillon didn't know what he had expected. There was no unpleasant taste or smell, just the pleasure of feeling Seth jump slightly beneath him. He repeated the action, sending his tongue a bit deeper this time.

"Mmm, Dillon," came the response from Seth. Dillon smiled, his lips curving against the flesh of Seth's ass. He was pleasing his man and that was all he really wanted at the moment.

Carefully spreading Seth's cheeks farther apart, Dillon again extended his tongue. This time he came in contact with the puckered flesh surrounding Seth's hole. He explored, circling his tongue. Dillon could feel the hole opening and closing as Seth writhed beneath him, emitting sounds of pleasure.

Then Seth suddenly rolled beneath him. Dillon pulled back to give Seth the room he needed. Seth responded by pulling him up and into a kiss, Dillon's body completely draped over Seth's once again.

Seth's breathing was rapid as they kissed and Dillon could feel how closely he was hanging onto his control. Their hands were becoming more frantic as they searched each other's bodies, learning how to pleasure each other.

Seth didn't like having his nipples played with. That was one thing Dillon hadn't expected. He had moved down to kiss one and Seth had tenderly moved him away. When Dillon had aimed for the other one, Seth had murmured, "No love, elsewhere if you don't mind."

Dillon didn't mind. Seth's body was a veritable feast and there was no reason for Dillon to go hungry. Instead he had moved up to nibble on Seth's ear, suckling gently at the lobe.

Dillon could have happily spent the rest of his life pleasuring Seth, but his cock had other ideas. It was becoming heavier and more insistent as each minute passed. It wanted relief and wasn't going to take no for an answer much longer.

Seth must have sensed that because he reached down and wrapped his hand around Dillon once again. His fingers squeezed lightly as he stroked. Dillon bit his lower lip and fought to control himself. "Seth," he gasped out. "You're going to have to stop or I'll explode."

Dillon felt Seth's hand reluctantly pull away from him. "I want you to explode, but not just yet. Dillon," Seth swallowed before continuing, "Dillon, I want you inside of me when you explode."

Dillon stopped. He hadn't been expecting this, especially not their first time together. That Seth would want to give himself that way was so amazing to Dillon.

"I haven't done this in a really long time," Dillon admitted. "Brad was a total top and now I can't even see what I'm doing. Are you sure you want to chance it?"

"We are part of each other," Seth replied. "I want us to share all that we are, and that includes your being inside me. There will be times when I'll want a chance to be inside you, but right now I want the other more. Please Dillon, do this for me."

There was no way Dillon could argue that. They really were two halves of a whole and it seemed natural that they join. Today, at this moment, Seth would be the lock and he would be the key.

"Do you have anything?" Dillon asked, still braced on his hands above Seth.

"Don't you know that a gay man is always prepared?" Seth responded with a smile in his voice. He reached an arm over his head and Dillon heard a cupboard in the headboard being opened.

A bottle was pressed into Dillon's hand. It was sizable and Dillon chuckled. "You're a very optimistic man, aren't you?"

"I saw this at Costco and I couldn't resist. I figured I wouldn't have to worry about shopping for supplies for a long time after I bought that monster. I even have a huge box of condoms that I bought there as well." With that, Seth handed Dillon a packet.

Sitting up, Dillon carefully tore into the packet. He didn't want to risk tearing the condom as well. Putting it on should have been easy, but Dillon found he was having trouble doing so. His hands shook from a combination of nervousness and excitement. Also, he was having trouble telling by touch which side of the condom was which.

Finally, Seth gently took it from him. Dillon blushed as Seth rolled it down onto his cock. "Shhh," Seth soothed him, "there's nothing to be embarrassed about. We'll help each other."

Next, Seth lovingly applied the gel to Dillon's latex-sheathed cock. His fingers were thorough and by the time he was done Dillon was once again fighting not to orgasm.

"Your turn," Seth said, handing the bottle back to Dillon.

Squirting some onto the fingers of his right hand, Dillon reached down with his left hand to find Seth's opening. Then he followed his left arm down and did his best to smear the gel onto Seth. Seth responded with a moan when Dillon eased a finger into him.

Never before had Dillon so carefully concentrated on the act of opening a man. He had always done it while continuing to enjoy himself in other ways. Now his whole being was concentrated on making sure Seth was ready for him.

The inside of Seth's body was warm and moist. His anal ring was stiff at first, refusing to give way to Seth's single finger. Once it loosened, however, he was able to slide a second finger in with much less resistance.

It was obvious that Seth was enjoying his attentions. Gasps and moans kept falling from Seth's lips as his hips moved in time with each thrust of Dillon's fingers.

Soon, Dillon could wait no more. He carefully moved over Seth, bracing his weight on his left arm. With his right hand, he grasped his own penis and guided it to Seth's waiting hole.

His aim was off. The head of his cock bumped against Seth's balls, but Dillon simply carefully slid himself down. Soon, he felt Seth's opening and Dillon pushed gently against it.

Dillon was actually perfectly made to be a top. He wasn't incredibly thick, but he was thick enough that he provided a wonderful feeling of fullness to his partners. More importantly, he was long, his penis reaching almost eight inches when fully erect. 

Sliding in a quarter of the way, Dillon paused. He squeezed his eyes closed, taking deep breaths and fighting the urge to slam himself home. Instead, he pulled out to the head and then eased himself back in, going a bit farther. He did this four more times, going deeper with each slow thrust until he was finally seated completely within Seth's welcoming body. 

Seth reached up and drew Dillon's mouth down to his own. They took the time to kiss long and leisurely as Seth's body adjusted to Dillon being inside him. Their tongues dueled as Dillon began very small thrusts.

They moved together, finding a rhythm that they both enjoyed. Seth reached down and grasped Dillon's hips, helping him to change his angle of penetration. Dillon smiled, knowing what Seth wanted. He adjusted himself and thrust deep, his cock head and part of the shaft sliding over Seth's prostrate.

"Dillon!" Seth cried out, his body arching up. "Oh, love, yes!"

That was when Dillon lost all the control he had been so carefully hanging onto. His strokes went from slow and deep to fast plunges, the bed shaking with the force of their bodies moving together.

For the first time since the accident, Dillon saw something. He saw stars as pleasure engulfed him. His whole body became one giant mass of nerves, overloading in bliss.

"Seth, come with me!" Dillon cried out, knowing he was close to orgasm.

Maybe that was all that was needed. Each just needed to know that the other was on the brink of fulfillment in order to obtain his own pleasure. With those words from Dillon, Seth cried out a final time, his body convulsing around Dillon as cum shot from his cock.

Dillon felt Seth's shudders and let go. He thrust deep and hard, his body exploding. Even as he felt warm cum hit his chest, it shot from his own cock head. His body trembled as he emptied himself, his whole world shaking with the force of his orgasm.

Gasping for breath, Dillon fell onto Seth. Immediately, Seth's arms banded around Dillon and drew him closer. No words were spoken, neither had the breath or the energy. No words were needed, however. What they had just shared transcended anything words could communicate.

**

They slept again, their bodies still locked together. Seth had carefully rolled them to the side so that he wouldn't be crushed. Wrapped in each other's arms, their bodies linked, they fell into oblivion.

When he finally awoke, Seth reluctantly pulled back, feeling Dillon slip from inside him. Dropping a kiss on Dillon's cheek, he rose and padded into the bathroom.

Having taken care of business, he moved back into the bedroom. For a moment he just stood over the bed and stared at the man he loved. Dillon's features were softened in sleep, all the pain of the past months melting away.




My Life is You Ch. 14



There were times when Dillon seemed so lost. Seth couldn't help wanting to reach out and offer to be Dillon's guide. He rarely did it, however, knowing that Dillon had been a fiercely independent man prior to the accident. Now, he needed as much independence as he could manage.

Seth worried that Dillon's need for independence might cause them problems. Every fiber of Seth's being insisted that he hold and help Dillon in whatever way possible. Their two impulses warred against each other. Seth had done well to restrain himself as much as he had in the past, but he couldn't promise to do so well in the future.

Climbing back into bed, he drew Dillon to him. Lovingly he traced the contours of Dillon's face with a finger. Then he smoothed his hand over Dillon's muscled shoulder and down his arm.

It was apparent that Dillon had continued his exercises. His body was firm and well defined. Even relaxed in sleep, his muscles were hard beneath his skin.

"I love you so much," Seth softly whispered, moving closer to Dillon. "I don't ever want to lose you again,"

Maybe he should have waited and said those words once Dillon was awake, but something inside wouldn't let him. He needed to speak them now, to know that they had been said.

Laying his head against Dillon's chest, Seth counted his heartbeats. They were strong and steady, just as Dillon was. They echoed against Seth's ear, assuring him that his love was close.

Even in his sleep, Dillon drew Seth closer. Earlier, Seth had held Dillon. Now, their positions were reversed and Seth was the one being held. It was a wonderfully secure feeling.

Unfortunately, the ringing of the doorbell intruded before long. Seth seriously considered ignoring it, but he knew many of his friends had been very concerned about him. It would be unfair to whoever had come to visit for him to just ignore his or her presence.

The doorbell rang a second time just as Seth was easing himself out of Dillon's arms. The combined noise and movement were just enough to wake Dillon up.

"Where you going?" he mumbled sleepily.

"There's someone at the door," Seth replied, dropping a tender kiss onto Dillon's lips. "I was just going to see who it is,"

Dillon ran a hand down Seth's bare back and over his ass, giving it a light slap. A smile curved his lips. "You may want to put some clothes on first,"

Seth just laughed and pulled away. Pulling a pair of cut-off sweatpants from a drawer, he slipped them on before heading downstairs to answer the door. He was whistling along the way.

**

Dillon smiled and stretched, his naked body arching up off the mattress. Several joints popped as he bent his body to an extreme angle before settling back down onto the bed.

MMMM, he was feeling good! His body was relaxed and limber in a way it hadn't been in a long time. He had a sleepy, sated feeling going that he didn't want to give up.

After considering lingering in bed, where the sheets and pillows smelled pleasantly of Seth, Dillon rejected the idea. A smell was nice; the real thing was nicer. Why should he lull around up here when the man of his dreams was downstairs?

Before they had crawled into bed together, Dillon had carefully folded his clothes and placed them on the dresser so that he would know where they were. Rising, he edged his way over to the big, heavy piece of furniture. Dillon knew he smelled of sex, but didn't feel comfortable just hopping into Seth's shower.

Once dressed, Dillon tried to make his way out of the room. Seth's house was unfamiliar to him and he'd been so full of his love of Seth when they had climbed the stairs together that he didn't really remember the journey. Eventually he was able to find the door and go out it into the hall.

This was the dangerous part. Dillon knew that the stairs weren't far away, but he had no idea how many steps it was to them. Placing his right hand on the wall, he began to slowly creep forward, trying to feel for that first step.

He would have been fine if he hadn't allowed himself to become distracted. Unfortunately, at the sound of Seth's happy laughter Dillon unconsciously sped up at exactly the wrong moment. His foot never even landed on the first step and the next thing he knew there was nothing but air beneath him.



My Life is You Ch. 15



People had good days, and they had bad days. If a person were lucky, the good days would outweigh the bad days. Of course, there was no guarantee in life that said they would.

Over all, he felt his good days had been more numerous than his bad days. Of course, he partially felt responsible for that. He worked hard to make sure he had a good life and good relationships with his friends and family.

Yesterday was a perfect example of how capricious fate could be. Lady Luck had taken great pleasure in keeping him on his toes. The day had started well, turned bad, become great, and then gone so deeply south that there was just no way to recover from it.

Today, however, was another story. It could still turn into a good day. After all, it was only a little after 1:00 am. There was still almost 23 hours left in the day. Surely that was enough time to turn things around.

Of course, that could only happen if Dillon woke up. If he did, the day would become one of the best of Seth's life. If he didn't, Seth wasn't sure what he would do.

He sat in the waiting room down the hall from the room where Dillon lay quiescently hooked up to machines and IVs. The chair he was using was actually more comfortable than he had expected. Maybe someone had finally wised up to the fact that people in hospital waiting rooms were going to be there quite a while and therefore deserved comfortable seating. Or, it could have just been an administrative mix-up with someone ordering the wrong furniture.

To his right, Eric was tilted back in his own chair, sleeping. Faint snores emanated from his open mouth every couple of minutes, but otherwise he was quiet. Sprite was curled up on the one couch in the waiting room, using her purse as a pillow. In a moment of random thought, Seth realized that he was impressed she had it with her. She was constantly forgetting it places. It wasn't that she was forgetful, but rather that she was so enthusiastic to keep going, she never checked to make sure she left nothing behind.

Jeremy was the only other person of their little group that was still awake. He was pretending to read an old copy of the Wall Street Journal. Seth knew he wasn't really seeing the words on the page because he hadn't turned a page in over an hour. Still, it seemed to help Jeremy, so Seth couldn't blame him for maintaining the illusion.

None of them had been allowed to see Dillon. Maybe that was the hardest part. It was bad enough knowing that he was lying in there, oblivious to the world around him, unable to reach out for help. Not being able to see him was even worse. But the head nurse of the floor was adamant about following the rules. If you weren't a blood relative, you had no rights.

She couldn't kick them out, however. They were friends of a patient and could spend as much time as they wanted in the waiting room. As long as they didn't try to actually see Dillon, they were doing nothing wrong.

If Dillon woke up and asked to see them, then they'd be allow to go to his room during visiting hours. But not until he did so could they even get close enough to spot a glimpse of his face.

Once again Seth went back to praying that Dillon would wake up. They had just found each other, and here they were, separated again. Would the universe never be kind to them?

Glancing up, he saw that it was now 3:30 am. Time was slowly flowing by. He didn't know if he should be grateful or upset. The longer Dillon failed to wake up, the less likely that he would. On the other hand, once a new shift of nurses was on duty, maybe he would be able to find someone sympathetic enough to allow him into Dillon's room.

If only Dillon had family to call upon. They could give permission for him to see Dillon. But Seth knew very little about Dillon’s family other than the fact that they had kicked him out as soon as it was legal to do so.

Of course, that’s only his parents, Seth thought to himself. Other family could do something.

“Jeremy,” Seth spoke softly, not wanting to wake either Sprite or Eric. Once he had Jeremy’s attention, he continued. “Is there anyone we should call? I know Dillon doesn’t get along with his parents, but what about any aunts, uncles, or cousins?”

Jeremy sighed. “I honestly don’t think so. I’ve never heard him mention anyone, but then he won’t talk much about his past. He might have other relatives, I guess. Either way, they haven’t seemed interested in him if they are out there.”

Seth cursed. “He shouldn’t be alone. Not in his life and especially not now. Someone who loves him should be in there with him.”

Moving to squat down in front of Seth, Jeremy took his hand. “He’s not alone, you know. He has you and me. We love him and he knows it.”

*    *    *

The first thing he realized was that he was thirsty. His lips weren’t dry and cracked, so it hadn’t been an inordinately long time since he drank anything, but his mouth felt arid.

The second thing that hit him was a sense of déjà vu. The sound of a beeping monitor reminded him that he had enacted this scene before. He knew exactly where he was, even though he could see nothing. The sounds of a hospital full of patients being woken up for the day mingled with the cloying smell of sickness that never went away, no matter how much antiseptic was poured upon it.

He wasn’t sure why he was in the hospital this time. He didn’t remember anything that would have led to a hospital stay, but then, he didn’t remember the car accident that had changed his life, either.

What was the last thing he remembered? He scanned his memory, smiling as the interlude with Seth came to mind. Yes, he definitely recalled that.

Afterward they had gone to sleep. He had slept well, sated and secure. But then, he’d awoken for some reason. Seth was just leaving. Where had he gone? Dillon couldn’t remember.

“Seth?” Dillon called out tentatively. He couldn’t imagine that Seth wouldn’t be nearby, but he wasn’t sure if he would disturb another patient. “Seth,” he called out a bit louder.

There was no reply. Dillon tried to sit up, wanting to get out of bed. The IV in his hand and the wires leading to his chest and nose all pulled him back down.

He waited for a nurse to notice he was awake or for a machine to signal a change and send someone to check on him. Nothing. No one appeared to take his blood pressure or shoot anything into his IV. He heard people walking past in the corridor outside his room, their soft-soled shoes squeaking against the floor. He tried to call out to them, but his mouth was still so dry that he couldn’t manage much in the way of volume.

Dillon decided to get someone’s attention. He wanted up out of this bed and he wanted his boyfriend NOW and he wasn’t willing to wait any longer. He reached up and ripped off one of the electrodes pasted over his heart, hissing at the pain of the glue taking off some of his skin and hair.

Immediately an alarm started going off from a machine to his right. It was loud and insistent. Footsteps out in the corridor hurried toward his direction and there were voices calling to each other.

Pulling another wire away from his chest, Dillon struggled to sit up even as he heard people rushing into his room. The IV in his hand sent a twinge of pain up his arm, but he ignored it.

A cart being rolled down the hall made a loud sound. A liquid voice called out, “Forget the crash cart! He’s awake and making it known!”

“What is going on?” Dillon demanded, pulling a third wire away. “Why am I in the hospital and hooked up to every machine in the damn building like some science experiment?”

“First, let’s just calm down,” the woman said in a soothing voice.

Dillon swallowed, attempting to wet his mouth before speaking again. “You can calm down,” Dillon replied. “I want to know what’s going on and why Seth isn’t here.”

“Is Seth a relative that we can call?” the woman asked, still trying to soothe Dillon. She was lightly stroking her fingertips over his right arm.

“No, he’s not a relative, he’s my boyfriend,” Dillon didn’t hesitate to reveal. He only had one thought, and that was to see the man he loved, no matter who he had to yell at to make it happen.

“Oh, well that explains why he’s not here,” she responded. “Only relatives are allowed to see a patient when he or she is unconscious.”

“What kind of stupid rule is that?” Dillon demanded. He knew he was being short-tempered and rude, but he still didn’t know why he was here or where Seth was. Seth was all he had to cling to at the moment, and clinging was what he was doing.

“I’m sorry, it’s just the rule of most hospitals. Would your Seth be nearby?”

“Is there a waiting room anywhere around here?” Dillon asked. “He’ll be there.”

“Well, then, I’ll go ahead and examine you, ask you a few questions, and then I’ll send someone to the waiting room. If Seth is there, we’ll have him brought in.”

*    *    *

Seth was fighting exhaustion with everything in him. His eyes badly wanted to shut and his head to drop back onto the chair behind him.

He knew part of it was physical exhaustion, but the larger component was emotional exhaustion. He and Dillon had been through so many ups and downs during the time they had known each other. It was like riding a roller coaster. It could be exhilarating at first, but after too long a run, you just wanted off.

That wasn’t to say he wanted out of his relationship with Dillon. Far from it. He just realized he wanted a more normal, everyday sort of life. The kind where they did little things for each other, fought over who was going to fold the laundry, and fell asleep in each other’s arms every night. 

To his surprise, he wanted a husband. And not just any husband. He wanted Dillon for his husband. For them to commit to each other, to declare before everyone that they would be together for the rest of their lives.

He’d found a sympathetic nurse who had revealed that Dillon’s vital signs were improving, but he still hadn’t been allowed to see him. Each moment gone by, not knowing what was going on and not being able to see it for himself, was sheer tortured.

“Is there a Seth Evans here?” Seth’s head jerked up at the sound of his name.

“I’m Seth Evans,” he replied, pushing himself quickly from his chair, and then sitting back down just as quickly as a wave of dizziness overtook him. He was still a bit weak from his own hospital stay and thirty-six hours without sleep and no real food was taking its toll.

The nurse who had called his name moved forward. She was a tall black woman with exotic features. Her body was lean and she moved with a grace that you saw in few people.

“You look like you need to be in here just as much as your partner, Mr. Evans,” she said in a voice that reminded him of café au lait. He shook his head. How could a voice be like coffee? He really was punch drunk. “In fact, I think Dillon looks more rested than you do.”

“Is he okay?” Seth asked.

“Other than the fact that he’s royally teed that you’re not in his room, holding his hand, he’s good,” she said. Eric reached over and squeezed his hand, while Sprite clapped hers in joy. Jeremy just sank back into his chair, silent tears of relief slipping down his face. “So, I’ve come to lead you back.”

Once again Seth stood up, but being more careful this time. He never glanced at the others with him, he just moved forward. Everyone else was forgotten in the realization that Dillon was okay and soon they’d be together again.

The room was as good as private. There were no other patients in the two other beds. Not that they would have mattered. Seth only had eyes for Dillon.

Dillon’s head moved toward the door the moment Seth stepped over the threshold. Somehow, Dillon had sensed him, even though Seth had been unaware of making any noise.

“Hey, Babe, where ya been?” Dillon asked, holding out his arm in Seth’s direction.

Seth stepped forward and took Dillon’s hand, raising it to press Dillon’s palm against his mouth. He closed his eyes and just held for a moment. 

“I’ve been to Hell and back,” he said. “But that’s okay, because I’m in Heaven now.”

*    *    * EPILOGUE

“Where are we going?” Dillon asked, angling himself toward Seth in his seat.

“I have a friend that has an Ayurveda Wellness Spa,” Seth replied. “We’re headed there.”

“What on earth is iyaved?” Dillon asked, knowing he looked confused.

“Ayurveda is an ancient Indian medical tradition,” Seth explained as he took the ramp onto the expressway. “My friend, Rick, is a great believer in it. It helped him after he was involved in an awful explosion.”

“How did it do that?”

Dillon heard Seth sigh. There was silence between them for a moment, the only sound that of other cars passing them or being passed as they sped along to various destinations.

“I was Rick’s therapist,” Seth began. “His injury was very nearly fatal. He had third degree burns covering the majority of his body, and second degree burns covering the rest. He was transferred here because the burn unit at Crestwick Sinai is one of the best in the country.

“But I could only do so much for him. I really was pleased with his progress, the fact that he had learned to walk and function again, but I knew there was little chance of him ever doing it comfortably.

“Then someone mentioned Ayurveda and that it’s supposed to have amazing healing properties. Rick figured he had nothing else going on in his life and little to lose, so he might as well check it out. He went to an Ayurveda Wellness Spa up in Canada, not too far from Toronto. When he came back a week later, the change was remarkable. He still had pain, but he was moving better, and the pain wasn’t as severe.

“Rick spent three years going up there once a month. Finally, he decided to look into building a spa down here. The rest, as they say, is history.”

“That’s amazing,” Dillon responded. “Is that why we’re going? You thing this iyaved stuff will help me somehow?”

Another sigh. “I wish I did Dillon. The truth is you are blind, and there’s nothing that can be done about it. Modern medical science and your dedication to your therapy regimen have done everything to restore your former mobility and strength to you. Jeremy even says you’re in better shape now than you were before your accident. No, we’re headed to Rick’s place because there’s a treatment I think you’ll definitely enjoy, and after the difficult times we’ve had, I think we both deserve some rest and relaxation.”

Dillon smiled to himself. Seth might not be taking him there to be helped physically, but Dillon knew the truth. This was a treatment for him; it was just for his spirit rather than his body. It seemed that Seth’s love for him showed in every word, every action, and Dillon carefully noted each instance and held it close to his heart.

The sound of the car tires crunching over gravel aroused Dillon from his reverie. They must have arrived at the spa. Even while still within the car, the atmosphere of the area seemed very peaceful. 

Birds sang out from their roosts high in the trees. There was a light breeze and somewhere near by there was a brook that actually babbled as it flowed over its rocky bottom. They weren’t far from the city geographically, but they could have been out in untouched country.

The door next to Dillon was pulled open and an unfamiliar voice urged him to step out. The minute he did, Seth was there to lead him away from the car and into the Spa.

Their footsteps rang on the wooden floors as they crossed an open area. Seth then stopped and a female voice with a heavy Indian accent said, “Welcome to Wellbeings, how may I help you?”

“We’re Seth Evans and Dillon Marshall, and we have a reservation.” Seth responded.

“Ah, yes, Mr. Evans, Rick has been most eagerly awaiting your arrival. I promised to let him know the moment you got here.” There was a sound that Dillon took to be the dialing of a phone, and a moment later a murmured conference took place before the receiver was hung up. “Rick is on his way to greet you. Would you mind filling out this registration form while you wait?”

Dillon stood quietly next to Seth. He inhaled deeply. There was a fresh, pleasant scent to the place. He had half expected the scents of saffron and curry, like in an Indian restaurant. There were definitely spices in this scent, but none he could recognize.

“Seth!” a deep voice with a Southern accent drawled out. “It’s so good to see you again. It’s been way too long.”

“Rick, look at you,” Seth responded, a note of pleasant surprise in his voice. “You’re moving without any limp or anything.” There was the sound of the two men hugging each other, slapping each other’s backs.

“I’m telling you, Ayurveda works. You did amazing things for me, but you could only take me so far. Ayurveda has taken me the rest of the way.”

“I’m glad,” Seth replied. “Rick, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, Dillon. Dillon, this is Rick Masters.”

Dillon extended his hand, hoping he was doing so in the correct direction. Soon, it was grasped by another. Rick’s hand was thick with scar tissue, the skin unnaturally smooth against Dillon’s fingertips.

“It’s good to meet you Rick,” Dillon said. 

“Good, hell,” Rick responded. “It’s great to meet you. It’s about time this here guy found someone good for him.

“Now, I’m going to let the two of you skip the tour. Seth, you’ve been here before, and Dillon, I doubt you’ll be going anywhere without Seth.” 

Dillon smiled. Rick was perfectly right. He wouldn’t be wandering off on his own, and it wasn’t because he was blind. He just didn’t want to ever be separated from Seth again if he could help it.

“Sandhya will take you to your rooms. Your bags should already by there. Go ahead and change into the robe and slippers provided before coming back down. I took the liberty of scheduling the two of you for a warm stone massage together, my treat. After that, Dillon you have a body wrap, just as Seth requested.”

With that, Rick was gone and the woman from the desk led them off. They quickly changed and moved back down to the main room, which is where they would be fetched for their treatments.

They had sat only a moment when someone came to summon them. They were led down into what the masseuse called the grotto, where another masseuse waited.

There was a small waterfall nearby. Dillon could hear and smell it. Soft music played and the setting seemed perfect for relaxation.

Their tables were close enough together that Dillon could hear the soft sound of Seth breathing. The massage was incredible, the warm stones heavy on their bodies as they melted away tension.

Afterward, they donned their robes again and went back up the main room. While drinking from cups of green tea, they chatted quietly, speaking of nothing in particular.

“What is this body wrap I’m supposed to have?” Dillon finally asked.

“It’s heaven,” Seth replied. “That treatment is my main reason for coming here. First, you’re given a sea salt body scrub. Next, you’re slathered with mud that’s scented with aromatherapy and wrapped in heated blankets. While the minerals in the mud soak in, you’re treated to a scalp and foot massage. Then, you’re washed off under a seven-headed Vichy shower that is suspended over the table. Finally, moisturizer is massaged into your body.”

“It sounds wonderful,” Dillon replied. “But, I’m not so sure I like the idea of some stranger having his or her hands all over me.”

“You were fine during our massage just now,” Seth pointed out.

“Yes, but you were there with me. I knew that nothing bad would happen while you were around. Are you having the wrap at the same time as I am?”

Seth hesitated before responding. When he finally spoke, it was with a touch of embarrassment in his voice. “Actually, I’m going to be giving you your treatment. I wanted it to be a surprise for you. I know how much you have enjoyed the massages I’ve given you in the past, and I wanted to give you something really special.”




My Life is You Ch. 15



Dillon reached out for Seth’s hand. Taking it, he said, “You have given me something really special. You’ve given me your love. Do you really think there’s anything more I want than that?”

“Well, since your love is the greatest gift I’ve ever received, I can definitely understand where you’re coming from. But I still want to do this for you. It’s something I think you’ll enjoy.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Dillon asked.

“For the person who normally administers the treatment to come fetch us. After all, the room may already be in use and we don’t want to walk in on someone else.”

“Good point,” Dillon replied, taking another sip of his tea.

Just then someone cleared his throat. “Mr. Marshall, Mr. Evans, would you come with me, please?” a man asked in an Eastern accent.

They rose and Seth guided Dillon forward. Descending a set of stairs, they were led to a bathroom. “Please remove your robes and any jewelry you may be wearing. If you have any jewelry, place it in the safe and clip the key to a towel that you can take into the treatment room. It’s right through that door, so you don’t have to go back out into the hall and you can enter naked. Enjoy,” he finished, stepping out and closing the bathroom door behind him.

Dillon slipped his robe off and handed it to Seth. Neither of them was wearing anything other than the robes and slippers, so they didn’t need to use the safe. They moved into the treatment room.

There was a smell similar to the ocean within the room. Dillon, with Seth’s help, carefully climbed up onto the towel-draped massage table.

“Just relax,” Seth said softly. “I want you to enjoy this.”

“I can’t imagine not enjoying anything you do to me,” Dillon replied just as softly as Seth raised Dillon’s arm and began to use the salt scrub to exfoliate the skin.

Seth was thorough and Dillon’s skin was soon tingling from the course grains being rubbed over it. It felt fresh and new when Seth was done.

“Now, I’m going to use a single shower head on a flexible hose to rinse the salt away.” As Seth spoke, Dillon felt warm water begin to gently rain down onto his chest and shoulders. Seth’s hands followed the trail of the water, smoothing away the salt scrub from every inch of Dillon’s body.

After he was finished, Seth pushed the soaking towels to the floor and kicked them under the table. There was a layer of plastic underneath them, which Seth also stripped away so that Dillon was sitting upon a piece of material that felt similar to parachute material.

Dillon gasped slightly as Seth began to smooth the thick, marine scented mud over his back and shoulders. It was warm against his skin.

At Seth’s urging, Dillon lay back so that Seth could apply the mud to the rest of his body. Dillon was sure that he was getting more personal treatment this most, because he couldn’t believe that the regular specialist painted every man’s balls and cock with the warm mud.

Once Dillon was completely covered, he felt Seth wrap the strange material around him. It immediately began to get warmer.

The sound of running water told Dillon that Seth was washing the mud from his hands. Soon, Seth was behind him, sitting on a rolling chair.

Dillon moaned as Seth’s fingers slid into his hair. He was feeling so relaxed, but this scalp massage was a new and wonderful thing to him. Tension he hadn’t even known he was carrying in his head and neck just melted away as Seth’s fingers catered to him.

When Seth withdrew his fingers twenty minutes later, Dillon had to bite back a protest. Seth had been doing things to his head that Dillon didn’t even know were possible.

The wonderful feelings weren’t about to end, though. Dillon heard Seth roll the chair down to the other end of the table and soon Dillon experienced a truly inspired foot massage. Seth pressed firmly into the ball of each foot before smoothing his hands down them. He rotated Dillon’s ankles and rubbed the arches.

When Seth’s fingers moved between Dillon’s toes, however, Dillon began to feel pleasure of a different kind. Dillon hadn’t been aware of the fact that his toes were a hot spot for him, but the feel of Seth’s oiled fingers slipping in between them turned him on. His breathing hitched slightly as he fought to control his reaction. Seth was doing this as a special treat and Dillon didn’t want to do anything to spoil it.

It was a fight that Dillon lost before he even began. Seth turned him on on so many levels that Dillon’s being was saturated with him. Just Seth’s touch in that innocent little spot was enough that Dillon was unable to control his desire. 

Dillon sensed Seth rising and moving away. He turned his head as though he were actually watching Seth. All his being was focused on this man he loved so much.

Once again there was the sound of Seth washing his hands. Then Seth began to peel the blanket away from Dillon’s body. The cool air rushed over Dillon, his nipples beading on his chest.

“I though you were supposed to be relaxing,” Seth said in a husky voice. “What’s this?”

Dillon felt Seth’s fingertips lightly skim over his hard cock. Shivering in pleasure, Dillon replied, “I couldn’t help it. The rest of me is relaxed, but my cock responds whenever you touch me.”

“I don’t mind,” Seth said, leaning down to tenderly kiss Dillon on his lips. “I do the same thing whenever we touch too.”

“Good, I don’t want to be the only one with a perpetual hard-on,” Dillon smiled.

“You definitely aren’t,” Seth said before moving away. “Now, I’m going to turn on the Vichy shower. I have all seven nozzles aimed at you, but let me know if any of them need to be adjusted.”

Soon, a pounding rain was descending upon Dillon’s nude body. Seth’s hands sluiced away the mud as the water separated it from his skin. Seth’s hand moved to clean off Dillon’s cock and Dillon moaned in pleasure. He heard a soft chuckle and knew that Seth had noticed.

Seth’s hands helped Dillon to roll over on the table and soon Dillon was lying upon his stomach. Water and mud were sheeting off him. 

Either by chance or by design, one of the showerheads was aimed directly at Dillon’s ass. The water pounded down onto his crack, pushing his cheeks apart and pressing on his hole. 

Dillon reached back and grabbed one of Seth’s hands from where it rested on his back. Pulling on it, he drew Seth around and in front of him. Using his hands to guide him, he found Seth’s half hard cock and sucked it into his mouth.

Seth moaned and Dillon felt him tremble. He knew Seth had not been expecting this and the surprise made it all the more sweeter. Soon Seth’s cock was fully hard and Dillon took pleasure in running his tongue over every bit of it.

“Dillon, you have to stop, or I’ll come,” Seth gasped out.

Dillon drew back, dropping a kiss on the slit at the very end as he did so. “I want you to come,” Dillon revealed. “But I want you to come in my ass, not my mouth. Fuck me, Seth. Make me yours.”

“What?” Seth asked. “But, Dillon, we don’t have anything with us. And this is supposed to relax you.”

“I’m totally relaxed except in two spots. My cock is hard and my ass is twitching. I want you to fill me. We can use the massage oil, but I want you inside of me.”

“I’ll turn off the shower, then,” Seth replied. 

“No,” Dillon disagreed. “Leave it on. It’s aimed perfectly. I want you stretched out on top of me so that the water pushes into your ass as you push into mine.”

Seth moaned at the imagery and moved away. When he returned, Dillon felt Seth’s oil slicked fingers push into his hole, rotating and spreading. Dillon bit down on the blanket beneath him, his body shuddering in pleasure.

Then Seth moved into place. Dillon felt Seth stretch out atop him, his tongue licking Dillon’s ear as he slowly pushed into Dillon. 

There should have been pain. It had been a long time since Dillon had bottomed and he was tight. There wasn’t any. Instead, there was a sense of constant pressure, a fullness, but no pain.

Then Seth slid all the way home. Again Dillon shuddered, moaning against the blanket. Above him, Dillon heard Seth gasp. Dillon knew that Seth had just discovered what a good job he had done at aiming those showerheads.

Pushing back slightly, Dillon tightened his hole around Seth’s cock. Seth needed no more encouragement and began to slowly thrust in and out of Dillon.

They kept this up for quite a while, moving slowly and languorously together. Seth’s mouth was all over Dillon’s neck, shoulders, and back. Dillon responded by proclaiming his love for Seth over and over again.

Soon, they couldn’t hold back. Seth increased his pace and Dillon responded by thrusting back eagerly. They moved together and apart, savoring the delicious friction and the sensuality of the water cascading down over them.

When Dillon came, he came hard. It was an intense orgasm, his body tingling from head to toe, the most intense sensation coming from his cock and ass, which squeezed Seth’s cock tight. That was all that was needed to set Seth off, and he thrust hard and deep, spraying his seed over Dillon’s prostrate.

Collapsing onto Dillon’s back, Seth trembled. Dillon smiled at the feeling and turned his head to kiss Seth’s face, which was resting on his shoulder.

“I love you, Seth,” Dillon said.

Seth carefully pulled out of Dillon and rolled him so that they were both resting on their sides on the table. They moved into each other’s arms, holding tight even as the water washed all evidence of their tryst away.

Seth smoothed back Dillon’s hair and Dillon nuzzled into Seth’s palm. “Seth, this isn’t the time or the way I had planned on saying this, but it feels right. I love you. I will always love you. I always want you by my side, a part of me. Marry me, Seth. Fulfill my life as you have my heart.”

Dillon felt the smile on Seth’s lips as they kissed. Pulling back, Seth admitted, “I was planning on asking you tonight. I even have two rings in my luggage. One for you, one for me.”

“Good, because I want everyone to know that I have someone that I belong to. I do, you know. I’m yours for all time.”

“As I’m yours.”

The End