12 comments/  112478 views/  180 favorites

The Human Condition Ch. 01

By: jfinn



Chapter One

Joe pulled out with a sigh and rolled away from me. His legs splayed and his cock lay limply on his right hip. He lazily moved one arm up over his head and grasped the brass rail of the bedpost stroking it in much the same way he had done to me only minutes before.

I stayed put, my left leg tucked up to my chest, my right stretched out in the same position I'd fallen into as my orgasm hit. My cock was trapped between the damp sheets and my wet belly, but I was too content to move.

I felt his hand move to my ass, gently stroking the same object he had just taken. I murmured something but I was too exhausted to actually form any words.

"You okay?" Joe asked quietly. 

He knew the answer, but he always asked the question. It was tradition now, the expected end to our lovemaking.

"Well fucked," I said the words slowly. He couldn't see my face, but I was smiling.

He laughed softly then pulled me into his arms. I stretched out on his chest and yawned. He reached across me and down his fingers gathering up a glob of cum on my ass. He raised his hand to my face and offered it to me. I accepted his bounty along with his fingers that I suckled like a newborn babe. I felt his cock twitch against my leg and he murmured in contentment. 

We stayed that way for some time. I felt my hole closing up after it's invasion and I squeezed my ass muscles in an attempt to help it in its quest to keep Joe's essence inside me forever. 

Eventually, reluctantly, I gave him back his fingers and spoke. "What time are they going to be here?" 

I played with his chest hair, hoping his answer would give me the space to fully recover. I always need quiet time after one of our early morning sessions. They always seemed more intense; the transition from sleep to passion to daily life was difficult for me. Not that I was complaining.

"About 10," he answered half asleep.

We were going to a double header at Wrigley. Baseball has never really been my thing, but I have to admit, I love the atmosphere at a ballpark, the sun, the hot dogs, and the corny organ music. Joe had been raised in a family whose love of the game seemed genetic. I had accepted that as part of the price of loving him. At least, that's how it was in the beginning. I'd never tell him, but I think that now, I almost enjoy the boys of summer, as much as he does. 

It hadn't always been this easy with us. I had accepted that I was gay from puberty. Growing up had been difficult, but at least I'd never been conflicted about what I'd wanted. 

Not so Joe. He had been the quintessential jock in high school, Homecoming King, captain of the football team, boyfriend of the head cheerleader. It had been his twin, Josh, who'd been the quiet, studious one who'd never dated much and was still a virgin when they'd walked down the aisle to Pomp and Circumstance at graduation. Joe had been sexually active, with girls, since he was 14. 

I met him at college our freshman year. We were living in the same dorm, but we didn't know each other. He was rushing the jocks fraternity; I was the fag down the hall. It might have stayed that way if I hadn't been flunking chemistry...


October 29, 1985

Ironically, it was the labs, not the bookwork that were killing me. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get the experiments to come out right. My professor knew I was trying, so he took pity on me and let me come to the lab late at night when I could make my mistakes in private. It was on one of those nights that I met Joe. 

I'd been attempting, again, to get some reaction right, when my hand slipped and a beaker of acid flew across the counter. To this day I swear it was a poltergeist that made it do that, or maybe it was my guardian angel. At any rate, it spilled into a hissing pool in front of me. I swore loudly and tried to stop the flow with paper towels only managing to spread the slop onto my shirt and pants and right hand. 

It burned. The pain was immediate and searing and all the safety regulations, I'd been taught, were forgotten as I stared at the red angry bubbles that were forming on my palm.

"For God's sake, move!" A deep male voice yelled at my paralyzed back. 

I hadn't noticed anyone come into the lab, but now I felt a hand on the back of my neck pushing me up and propelling me to the emergency shower in the corner. The next thing I knew, cool water was rushing over me, taking away the fire and leaving me so weak with relief that my knees sagged. I would have fallen if strong hands hadn't caught me at my pits and kept me upright.

"It's okay, you're going to be fine," the voice murmured over and over hypnotically as thumbs circled and stroked my shoulder blades while the rest of his fingers kept a grip on my armpits, keeping me upright, letting the cold water do its job on the burning acid.

Gradually, I came back to myself. I stood a little more steadily and the hands removed themselves. I missed them immediately and was grateful when they returned to rub my shoulders and the back of my neck in the same steady comforting way as they had held me before.

Finally, curious, I turned to look to see who my savior was, expecting my professor or a stray TA who'd been slaving away grading papers. I was shocked to find Joe Lassiter instead.

"You?" I asked stupidly. 

I knew who he was of course. The University of Michigan was, and is, a football school, Joe was a high school All American and the youngest starting quarterback the school had ever had. The fact that we were winning had a lot to do with it too. Three months into the school year and it looked like we were not only Rose Bowl bound, but even had a chance of winning the damn thing. The football players were Gods and everybody knew their names even those who professed to hate the sport. 

I loved the game, so of course I was up on the team. Hey, I might be gay, but I'm still a guy. And as I mentioned, I lived down the hall from Joe. I'd have had to be an invertebrate not to have known who he was. 

"Hey dude," Joe chose to ignore my comment. "I think we can get you out of here now." He reached up and pulled the chain on the shower but he still kept one hand on my shoulder, still worried I might collapse on him. "Turn around so I can see how bad the damage is."

I obeyed him, in too much shock to put on a macho front and insist I was okay. He stared critically at the front of me and I followed his eyes half dreading to find out just how stupid I had been.

My shirt was shredded and ended in tatters halfway up my chest. Where the acid had touched me were big red angry streaks and a huge blister had already formed. It looked like the top of a question mark and stretched from the waistband of my jeans to just around my naval. The liquid had also sloshed down my left hip, burning a hole through my pocket and down my thigh. Fiery skin could be seen through the gaps. 

Joe looked up at me quizzically. 

"Those are going to have to come off," he said matter of factly. When I didn't respond he went on to explain like he was talking to child. "We need to see how bad the burn is." 

I nodded mutely in agreement. He stared at me and I realized that some sort of action on my part was called for. I tried to undo the button at my waist but the movement of my right hand made me wince. Joe took my arm gently and turned my palm up.

"Oh fuck!" He whistled softly at what he saw. 

There had been no material there to protect me and the paper towels I had foolishly tried to use had worked as a wick soaking my hand with the acid. The blisters I had watched forming just a few minutes ago had grown and ruptured, and my hand, which looked normal topside, was bloody meat underneath. 

I looked at the mess dispassionately. Funny, it didn't hurt as much as the rest of me. Joe snapped his fingers in front of my face to get my attention.

"Do you have a car?" He asked.

I shook my head. Freshman weren't allowed such luxuries in the traffic-glutted city of Ann Arbor.

"Me neither," he said unnecessarily. He thought a moment. "Well, let's see the rest of this first before we worry about how to get out of here." 

He was thinking out loud, not really expecting a response. It was a good thing because I seemed to have lost the ability to speak. He reached for my waistband and dispassionately undid my jeans and slid them surprisingly gently down my burning legs. I winced in spite of his care and he noticed.

"Sorry," he muttered and then squatted to take a good look at marks on my legs.

I suppose in a story like this I'm supposed to tell you that, in spite of my pain, my lust took over and I forgot everything else but the stud that was kneeling in front of me. Get over yourselves, it didn't happen. 

Oh, I was thinking about my sex life, but in a more abstract way. My body had settled into a one huge throb of pain. I could not distinguish exactly where the source of that pain was and I was half afraid it was coming from a place I valued above all others, if you get my drift.

I forced myself to glance down once my pants were around my ankles. It wasn't a reassuring sight. The acid had not only eaten through my jeans but had also taken a very large hole out of my BVD's. A very, large, hole. The entire left side of my bush seemed to be missing and loose hair had seared off and stuck to the raggedy ends of my shorts. I gulped.

Joe looked up at me seriously.  "This is nothing personal, but I'm going to have to strip you," trying to put me at my ease with his lame joke. 

I smiled feebly and he carefully went to work peeling the wet sticking mass from my sore skin. 

This time I couldn't look. I felt the cool air on my naked skin. It caused a momentary relief from the fire but that ended and the pain came back worse than ever. 

Joe expelled a whoosh of hot hair from his lungs as he looked and it hit me like a flamethrower. I moaned involuntarily and stepped back into the wall. Instantly he was on his feet and he grabbed my shoulders to keep me from banging my head.

"Oh Jesus buddy!" he said, real regret in his voice. "I'm sorry, that must hurt like hell!"

My heart sank. It must be worse than I'd imagined and believe me; I have a vivid imagination. 

Suck it up, I told myself. You did this to yourself asshole; now deal with it. I took a deep breath and spoke my first full sentence to my savior.

"How bad is it?" It came out as a croak, but a legible one. I even managed a smile.

Joe smiled back. Okay, I admit I did notice how gorgeous he was. I was damaged, not dead. A big tall, All American boy was young Mr. Lassiter and some of my wildest fantasies since coming to college had starred a character that looked just like him.

"You want the good news or the bad news?"

"There's good news?" Hope sprang up in my chest.

"Yup," he nodded, then perversely gave me the bad news first. 

"You've got second degree burns on your left thigh and hip and it extends into your, ah, pelvic region. A lot of your, ah, hair..." His face reddened as he said this. "Is gone, but..." It was too much for him. "Oh hell," he turned away, "see for yourself."

I looked down. He was right, a lot of hair was missing and, where it had been, were scarlet streaks though no blisters. My shaft was a little red but my knob and my balls seemed undamaged. I thanked every deity I could think of and finally looked up to find Joe staring at me trying to hold in his laughter at the look of abject relief on my face.

"Really dodged a bullet this time," he finally managed and with that we both burst out laughing. 

I couldn't believe it. Here I was burned, in incredible pain, naked, soaking wet, with my pants around my ankles and standing in front of the best looking guy on campus and all I could do was laugh. What can I say; men really are their cocks. 

But it went on too long and what had started as laughter turned into hysteria. The tears that I'd sworn to myself I wouldn't cry dripped down my cheeks and off my chin.

Once again Joe was at my side. He grabbed me and shook me firmly but without malice. "Knock it off," he ordered. 

With a hiccup, I did. 

He nodded abruptly, then his face gentled. "We have to get you to the hospital."

My male posturing suddenly kicked in. The way my moods were swinging made me slightly less stable than Robin Williams on coke.

"No, I'll be fine," I protested.

"Oh bullshit." 

Joe pushed me away and walked over to the phone on the far wall. He dug in his pocket and came out with, I swear to God, a little black book. He flipped through it until he found the number he wanted. I couldn't hear the conversation, but it didn't take very long and he hung up and came back to me.

"I called my girlfriend. She lives off campus," as if that explained everything. 

Which I suddenly realized, it did. Off campus students usually had some form of transportation. I was back to nodding, it had become my normal form of communication with this guy.

"She's going to meet us out front," he continued, "do you think you can walk that far or do you need me to carry you?"

Now I think I need to stop right here and explain a few things. First, I'm half Italian and half German, an Axis alliance you might say but with me the Italian came out on top with my dark hair and eyes and olive complexion. But I did inherit something from my Aryan uncles; I'm a big guy, 6'4" and then some, and I weigh 210 on my best days though usually, due to my love of junk food, it's closer to 220. 

Joe may have been the football hero, but I top him by two inches and 30 pounds. He was only a quarterback for Christ's sake. I was a linebacker in high school and pretty successful though nowhere good enough to play big time college ball. The thought of Joe carrying me was almost enough to start me laughing again. I settled for a small smile instead and shook my head.

He knew what I was thinking.  "Don't think I could do it?" He grinned back at me.

"No, that's not it," I said lying. "I just meant I could walk." What the hell, to my way of thinking the guy had just saved my life; he could keep his illusions if he wanted to.

"Good," he wisely decided to let the matter drop. "But we gotta another problem."

"What's that?" The pain was making me stupid. At least that's the excuse I always give myself for not realizing what he was about to say.

"Well," he grinned. "You're nude and I think Ann Arbor has laws about that sort of thing in public."

His words hit me like a blow. I felt the blood rushing to my face. I realized that I had been standing there for at least 15 minutes stark naked in front of this guy without even realizing it.

"'Course," he went on ignoring my embarrassment. "I could be wrong, this is a pretty wide open town."

"Oh God," I groaned and closed my eyes. 

I wondered if this night could possibly get any worse? And how was I ever going to face this guy when I saw him in the dorm halls? Maybe I'd move, I decided.

"Here." 

In my distress I hadn't noticed that he'd left the room, but he must have because now he was holding a backpack and giving me a pair of sweat pants out of the bag.

"Hold these for a minute while I get the rest of your stuff off you."

I protested but he wouldn't take no for an answer. The funny thing was he completely misread my motivation. 

"Look," he said patiently. "You don't have to worry, I'm not gay or anything." Like that would be a problem, I thought. "...and you obviously are in no condition to do this on your own." He started to untie the laces on my sneakers. "I have a twin brother and I guess I've always thought it was no big deal to see another guy naked."

Sorry to hear that, I thought to myself. But I wasn't so far gone as to let it slip out of my mouth. I let him finish undressing me then he took the sweats from my hand and held them open. I balanced myself with my good hand on his shoulder and carefully stepped into the pants. Joe slowly pulled them up.

"Let me know if this hurts too much," he said.

I held my breath but the material was soft and although there was some added discomfort it wasn't too bad. I sighed though when he was finished, and realized that sweat had mixed with the water on my wet head. 

Joe noticed too and looked hard at me.  "Okay?"

I nodded shakily.

"You don't talk much do you buddy? Hey, what is your name?"

"Mike, Mike Ross," I managed.

"I'm Joe Lassiter. Nice to meet you, Mike."

"You too," I said lamely.

The next 45 minutes are ones I'd like to forget. I managed, just, to make it out the door to the car but the act of sitting defeated me and I finally had to slid in with the help of Joe and lay on my back in the rear of the vehicle. Luckily it was a big station wagon and there was enough room for my long frame. 

Jenny was the name of Joe's girl and she was all sympathy and wide eyes, but she didn't fool me. She didn't give a damn about me, not really. She was doing this all for Joe's benefit. I couldn't blame her, I'd probably do a lot of stupid things myself just to see the grin that lit up that handsome face when she leaned over and cooed at me. But I still didn't like her. Her smile was big and wide, but her eyes were cold. 

She drove us to the hospital and made a production out of dropping us off and parking the car all by her lonesome so Joe could help me in. While she was gone, an attendant came out to meet us and realizing my predicament, fetched a gurney so I could lie down. 

Jenny reappeared and she ran to Joe and grabbed his arm and asked, with concern dripping from her voice, how I was doing. Nice sentiment, but I noticed she never bothered to look at me. 

I didn't hear his answer because they came and wisked me away through big double doors. Joe yelled something at me and I raised my hand weakly but I don't know if he saw before the doors closed.

The rest of that night is a kaleidoscope of hot lights and pain and faces hovering over mine asking me how I felt. I felt like shit and I'm pretty sure I told them so, over and over, at least until they started an IV and shot some pain meds into me. 

From then on I floated, complaining only occasionally when the exam got so painful that even my narcotic induced numbness was no defense. Eventually they admitted me and I settled back into one of the waterbeds they used in the burn unit. I was hoping for a stretch of uninterrupted unconsciousness. It wasn't to be.

"Hey Mike. Dude. Wake up."

I opened one eye warily. Then the other as it registered who was standing in front of me, Joe Lassiter. My groggy mind wasn't working very well and I couldn't figure out why the quarterback of the Wolverines was standing in front of me, wearing a paper gown and a face mask and calling me dude.

Joe noticed I was awake and leaned over me grinning.

"So how's it hanging?" He laughed out loud. "Oops, maybe that was a poor choice of words."

I groaned. Now, I remembered. All of it. But oddly enough, with all the things that had happened that night, the one thing that concerned me the most was that I had never thanked him. I tried to make up for it, but he waved my gratitude aside.

"I'm just glad I was there," he said simply.

"Why were you?" I asked suddenly curious.

It was his turn to get embarrassed. I could see the color stain his fair cheeks. It made him look about six years old.

"I'm a freak of nature," he admitted. "I'm a jock with a 4 Point and I love of chemistry, well, anything to do with science actually." He shrugged. "I'm pre-med."

"So you were studying?" I prodded.

"Nah," he shook his head. "More like fooling around. There's a project the department is doing on Auto Immune Deficiency research and I was doing a little reading up." He looked at me assessing. 

"I haven't told anybody else about this, except my brother," he said the last as if that were to be expected. "But there's an assistant's job opening up on the project and I think I have a shot."


The Human Condition Ch. 01



"That's great," I said.  Though honestly, the thought of actually wanting to spend time in a lab was as foreign to me as wanting to look at Pamela Lee's fake boobs.

"It's really nothing more than being a gopher," he protested modestly. "But it would look good on a med school application." 

His tone was nonchalant. He didn't fool me. Med school be damned, he wanted the job for itself. I could see it in his eyes. The boy was right; he loved science.

We talked for a few minutes more and then Nurse Ratchet stuck her head in the door and told him his time was up. He stood up and we were both suddenly awkward about how we should say goodbye. We weren't exactly friends and yet we had just experienced an event that would bind us together forever. I would never forget it certainly and I was just as sure he wouldn't either.

"Well," I finally began but Joe stopped me when he put a hand to my shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze.

"Look," he said as if he had come to some kind of decision. "I'll stop by later to see how you're doing. Maybe you can get somebody to write down a list of any stuff you'll need while you're in here and I can fetch them for you."

"You don't have to do that," I protested. 

He waved me off. "I want to. It's no big deal anyway, don't you live down the hall from me?"

I nodded surprised that he'd noticed. Once again it was like he read my thoughts or maybe it was that I didn't have as much of as a poker face as I thought. 

He raised his arms in a, what can you say, gesture. "Like I told you, a freak of nature, a jock who pays attention."

"Nobody believes those stereotypes anymore," I said.

"Sure they do," he responded cheerfully. "And a lot of the times they'd be right. Lots of people are stereotypes."

I shook my head. "I don't agree."

"Whatever," he shrugged. "Be back." He turned and started to walk towards the door.

"Joe, wait," I called and he stopped and turned a question in his eyes. "Thanks again, for everything."

With a wave he was gone.

A few minutes later, Nurse Ratchet, who was really a very nice girl named Betsy O'Brien, came back into the room. 

She sighed and leaned against the wall. "God he's cute! He looks just like a young Harrison Ford." 

"Who?" I asked, though I knew very well because I'd just been thinking the same thing myself.

She raised an eyebrow and looked at me hard. "Yeah right," she finally said. She was being sarcastic but the twinkle in her eye softened the blow.

I took a better look at her. She was a student nurse; I realized now, probably only a year or two older than I was. And, she had very good gaydar. One look at her big gray eyes told me she knew exactly where my interests lay and it wasn't with a female nurse no matter how cute and curvy she happened to be.

"He doesn't know," I blurted. 

Though, come to think of it, I wasn't sure about that. I was out, sort of, and I knew that some of the other guys on my floor knew as did my roommate, Carl. 

Fortunately for me, he didn't give a damn as long as I kept my dirty socks on my side of the room. And it wasn't like I was planning on keeping it a secret from Joe either. I'd played that game before and had come to the conclusion that it was always the wrong way to go. 
"Then tell him," Betsy bluntly intruded into my reverie. "If he's a good guy, he'll be cool with it, if not," she shrugged again, "then fuck him."

She saw the look of shock on my face and started to laugh. "Down boy, I didn't mean that literally," her face got serious. "My little brother is gay." She slowed her speech, picking her words carefully. "It hasn't always been easy for him. I feel bad about that." 

She gave a shake of her head as if to say, enough, then pulled a pad of paper out of her pocket. "Okay," she said brightly. "The Football God said that you wanted to make a list?"

We made the list and she suggested I add my class schedule so Joe, or whatever girl he could con into doing it, could contact my professors and tell them where I'd be spending the next few weeks. Since the time included the Thanksgiving holidays it probably wouldn't be impossible for me to keep up if they'd agree to give me my assignments. Of course it would mean I wouldn't be going home for turkey but that was no great loss. 

Joe did come back that night and most nights after that. He hauled my stuff to me including my textbooks and he made sure the University knew I hadn't fallen off the face of the earth. He even called my parents, which amazed me, and made my little brother's day when he answered the phone and got to talk to the hero himself. 

The downside of all this was that I still hadn't told him I was gay and the longer I waited the more trouble I had trying to think of a way to broach the subject. It got to be such a big thing with me that I could barely stand the thought of seeing him again. So, where for a while there, I'd been pretty talkative, I reverted back to my initial form of silent communication of mostly nods and the occasional monosyllabic grunt when an oral answer was imperative. 

To make the whole situation even more Machiavellian, he had finally noticed Betsy and started dating her, Jenny now being history, thank God. Even I could understand why he liked Betsy. Not only was she smart, funny and genuinely nice, she was a babe. 

Medium tall, with a figure like a proverbial brick shithouse and legs that wouldn't quit, she had an elegant grace about her that was perfectly in sync with her dark gypsy looks and wild black hair that I saw hung down to her ass when I finally got a look at her without her paper cap. Hell, even I was attracted to her looks, though, of course, with an aesthetics' appreciation not a sexual one. Joe wasn't going to pass that up and I sympathized even though I didn't like it. 

It wasn't that I was jealous, well not much anyway. I knew that my fantasies about Joe were just that. What really kept me in a constant state of fear was that Betsy would inadvertently let the cat out of the bag and let him know about my being gay, though she swore, and I believed her, that she would never tell him intentionally. 

She still thought I should let him in on my little secret, mind you. Oh yes, she was adamant about it. Not, as she stated passionately, because it was such a bad thing, but because friends couldn't really be friends when they kept such life defining details from each other. 

I couldn't deny she was right. Look at how I was acting. I wasn't sure why the guy kept coming back day after day except for the thought, and this really depressed me, that he was using me as an excuse to see Betsy. It didn't matter, I told myself. The idea of me staying friends with a guy like Joe was ludicrous, wasn't it? 

But it did matter to me. See, I had this problem. Somewhere down the line I'd fallen for the guy: hook, line and sinker. The thought of losing all contact with him if he couldn't handle my being gay kept me up at nights. Of course, I kept trying to convince myself that he wasn't going to react that way. 

Don't get me wrong, I had no illusions that he'd fall into my arms and say, I want you. Okay, so maybe the thought did cross my mind, but a guy can dream can't he? Nor was I worried he'd turn out to be some asshole homophobe. I wasn't that much of a rube; I knew how to spot that type right off the bat. 

The thing I couldn't bear was the possibility that he'd turn out to be one of those guys who pretended they were cool with it but would immediately start acting like you'd become some kind of pod person. I'd had some experience with that kind and the thought of the man I loved turning into one of those cretins was not something I thought I could take. 

And the sad truth was, I really was in love with him. What had started in the dorms as a nice little crush like you'd get on a rock star or a matinee idol had turned into a full-blown love affair for one. I was the one; he didn't have a clue. 

I was so good at hiding my feelings that the poor guy was even starting to think he bugged me too much and that I didn't like him. Betsy told me that. She'd known it was going to hurt me. See, I wasn't the only one who was a little jealous. 

Betsy, who had started out being as nice as pie, now seemed to consider me some kind of a threat. I had no idea why she felt this way; if there was one thing I was sure of, it was Joe's preference for women. That didn't seem to matter to her though. Betsy wasn't as willing to share Joe as she had been in the beginning of the relationship. Ironically, at the time, I was almost relieved because I was so uncomfortable with the secret I was keeping from him.

So, we were all unhappy. Now it was the day before the Thanksgiving break and Joe had come to say goodbye to both of us. Betsy had worked the afternoon shift and was just getting ready to catch a ride with some friends to her family's house in Grand Rapids. Joe was leaving the next day for his folks place on the outskirts of Chicago. His brother was going to be there too, down from Syracuse where he was in the Seminary. Joe was looking forward to seeing him, he'd been talking about it for days, but now he seemed reluctant to go. 

He and Betsy had an awkward goodbye kiss in front of me and then, as she disappeared out the door, Joe excused himself and ran after her. When he came back he was smiling a little but the look faded when he glanced at me.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay here?" He asked with a frown as he sat in his usual chair by my bed.

I was from a small town outside Harrisburg, Pennsylvania almost eleven hours by car. There was no way my parents and three younger sibs could make that trip. We'd talked on the phone and I'd assured them that I'd be okay. My mom had cried, but I think the reality was we were all a little bit relieved that we'd be able to avoid a holiday reunion.

My family knew about my sexuality and they tried to accept it, they really did, but my father looked at me every time he saw me as if he was glad I wasn't wearing a dress and my mother was sure I was going to die of the dreaded disease that was just starting to be recognized by people in polite society. My brothers and sister were too young to be told, but too old to not realize something was weird, so all in all our little family get togethers were pretty depressing.

"I'm fine with it," I assured him. 

He wasn't buying it. He loved his family and he didn't seem to be able to grasp the concept that all families weren't as much fun to be around as his own. 

"If you want, I'll stay," he offered for the 59th time. The sweetest thing about it was I knew he meant it and would never have held it against me for a minute if I'd taken him up on it.

"Are you kidding," I tried to lighten up the moment, "it'll be a relief not to have to stare at your ugly face for a few days." 

At that, his gorgeous face stiffened and the hurt in his eyes broke my heart. Leave it to you jackass, I mentally berated myself, to say exactly the wrong thing at the wrong time.

"Joe, wait," he hadn't moved but I could see he'd been poised for flight. With my words he warily settled back into his chair. "We need to talk, or rather, I need to."

"Well that'll be a change," he muttered.

"Yeah," I shrugged. "I know, I've been a real asshole lately..."

Joe grinned; he thought he knew where this conversation was leading. "Hey dude, it's okay," he talked so fast I couldn't find an opening to interrupt. "It must be the pits to be tied down like this. I'd go nuts..."

"Would you shut the fuck up for a minute and let me say something!" I was almost shouting and his jaw dropped in shock. "Jesus Christ, Joe, it's no wonder I never talk around you, you never let me get three words in. I do occasionally have something to say you know." 

I stopped; I couldn't believe I'd let that out. For his part Joe was smiling again. He must have realized that I wasn't really pissed. I waited for more of a response but he just sat there grinning.

"Now what?" I said, have exasperated, half laughing.

"You want me to speak?" He said with a raise of his eyebrows. "I thought you just told me to shut up? Now you want me to say something?"

"What I said, was shut the fuck up and yes, now, I want you to say something," I tried to look stern but I could see I was failing by his reaction.

"And that would be?" Oh God, he had the best smile.
"Shit, I don't remember anymore," I groaned. It was now or never, I had to tell him.

"Listen, have you told your friends about our little adventure together?" I started. The change of subject surprised him. He looked at me with a puzzled expression.

"Sure, why not?"

"No reason, I just wondered if anybody had said anything when you told them."

"Not really, except a few did mention how unbelievably stupid you acted. Oh and it was mentioned that I was incredibly brave etc., etc."

"Cute," I grimaced.

"Why?" Joe asked.

Here goes, I thought and took a deep breath. "Because I thought maybe somebody might have called me a faggot or something."

Joe laughed. So, I thought, he already knew. I was weak for a relief for about two seconds until he spoke.

"Hell no, Jesus, dude why would you think that? Why would you care even if they did? It's just a word, something guys say all the time. It doesn't mean anything."

Oh shit. He didn't know. Didn't even have a clue. I was beginning to think for such a smart boy; Joe could really be a social retard sometimes.

"No," I replied carefully. "It isn't just a word. It means something. Especially when it's true."

Joe's big face went blank. Just like that the light went out in his eyes. Now, I thought grimly, now he knows.

"I'm gay Joe. I am a faggot," I wanted to make it perfectly clear.

"Yeah man, I got it," he stood abruptly and started to pace.

"I should have told you sooner," I felt like my heart was breaking. 

"Yeah, you should have," Joe's voice was tight with some emotion I wasn't mature enough to recognize as pain.

"When we met, well, it just didn't enter into it and then I just assumed you knew or somebody would tell you..."

He groaned. "You mean everybody knew but me?" He turned and faced me. "Betsy, does Betsy know?"

"It was never a secret," I answered gently.

"Jesus Mike!" He ran his hand through his thick, dark gold hair. "You must have realized after a while..." He paced again then stopped and stared unseeingly out of the window. When he spoke again it was in a whisper and I had to strain to hear him. "You must have realized I didn't know!"

He was right of course. No amount of self-delusion had ever really convinced me that Joe was aware that I was gay. Even if he had been perfectly fine with it, he'd have mentioned it if he'd known. I couldn't think of anything to say to console him so I kept my mouth shut.

"Were you laughing at me?" He was still facing the window but his voice came out hard and strong. "Did you think it was funny that I was so stupid?"

"Oh my God no!" 

I struggled to get out of the bed. I'd been mobile for some time but I was still stiff and sore and the effort made me groan. Joe turned and looked at me. For the first time since I'd known him he made no effort to help me. I made it to my feet and wrapped the sheet around me. With the burns located where they were, it was easier to not wear anything, but now I thought, was not a good time to go naked. I shuffled over to where he was standing but the look he gave me made me stop a good three feet from him.

"I would never laugh at you," I said. "I think you're a great guy and I can never begin to repay you for your quick thinking at the accident and all the friendship you've given me since." 

He just continued to stare. For once he was the silent one and I was the one who couldn't shut up. 

"I guess my only excuse is I was afraid you'd hate me if you knew the truth," I waited for a moment for a response. When I didn't get one I continued in a burst of self-pity. "I guess I was right to worry." 
Now I got a response.

"Well isn't that just fucking great!" Joe turned from the window, his eyes blazing with anger. "Now let me get this straight Mike." His face took on a mocking look. 

"Yeah, guess that's a poor choice of phrasing. But let's let that pass. What I'm hearing here is you're telling me all of this is my fault because you thought I'm just some redneck who could never understand? Jesus, if I'd known I was so transparent I would have gone ahead and gotten that swastika tattooed on my arm like I wanted to last Christmas." 

"That is not what I meant," I tried to reach out and touch his arm in the way he had so often done to me but he wasn't having any of it and shrugged me off.

"Bullshit," he stared at me for a long moment and I had to force myself not to lower my eyes. "I don't care that you're gay, Mike." He continued in a soft deadly tone that told me that regardless of his words, he did care. "What bugs me is that you didn't trust me enough to tell me about it. And don't try and con me that there was never a right time, there were plenty and you know it. Shit, we talked about women we thought were hot!"

"You talked, I listened," I couldn't help myself.

Joe waived his hand dismissively. "You don't think maybe you could have said something then, you know like, 'Speaking of hot, what do you think of Mel Gibson?' Even a dumb jock like me might have gotten the reference."

"Never happen, I think he's overrated," I smiled, simply to keep myself from crying.

"Whatever," he turned back to stare out of the window.

We stayed where we were for a long time. I finally turned and hobbled back to the bed. As I sat down I heard Joe clear his throat and I turned to look at him. His back was still turned to me and his hands clenched the windowsill as if he needed it to keep him upright. 

"You know, I really liked you," His voice was low and hoarse and I had to strain to hear him. "I've felt so alone since I've gotten here and I was hoping you and I could be friends. Before, there's always been my brother, but since he decided to become a priest... Well, it's different now."

"You're a lot like him. I mean, not physically, Josh and I are identical you know. But your personality is like his, quiet, strong, honest," he sighed. "Well, maybe not so honest. I thought I could trust you. And I thought you knew you could trust me."

"I am so sorry," I stopped, if I said anymore I was going to cry.

Joe turned; his blue eyes were rimmed in red. "Yeah buddy," he spoke softly. "So am I."

He walked quickly to the door and opened it, then turned and looked at me for what I was sure would be the last time. "See ya around," and he was gone.



The Human Condition Ch. 02



Chapter Two

The alarm went off for the third and last time. If I hit the snooze again it would automatically shut itself off. I had the choice of resetting it completely or getting up. I swore softly and sat upright.

Joe didn't move a muscle. It was amazing to me that he never heard the buzz that damn clock made. Especially, when he always seemed to manage to wake up on time whenever I wasn't around. I looked at him. Yep, still sleeping like a baby. That is, if the baby in question looked like a matinee idol. 

A breeze from the open window tugged at the curtain. The movement caught my eye and I watched the material billow and catch on the frame of a picture of us taken almost three years ago to the day. God, had it really been that long? At thirty-three, I was becoming increasingly aware of the speed at which my days seemed to move. But, I sighed contentedly, they were full days and rich with the life I had been so fortunate to have been given.

I looked back at my sleeping lover. The movement of the curtain had allowed a shaft of sunlight to enter the room. It fell over Joe's body, but he was still oblivious. I traced the play of light and shadow on the planes of his face with my eyes. His morning beard gleamed gold on his tanned skin. His lips were red and slightly swollen from our early morning lovemaking, parted just enough to show the hint of very white teeth. His lids were closed and hid those bright blue eyes I loved so much, but there was movement under the skin. I hoped the dream was of me. 

Carefully, I slipped from between the silk sheets I'd made so much fun of when my sister had given them to us the previous Christmas. I wondered now if she could ever imagine the pleasure we'd found in them. The thought made me grin. Knowing Sarah, she probably had a half a dozen sets herself and was well aware what a turn on they were. 

I stood and stretched, lazy and naked. The wind blew again through the window and the drape shook rattling the frame of the picture that had captured it. I went to the wall and carefully untangled the curtain. After a moment's consideration, I removed the picture from the nail and placed it carefully on the dresser. Some memories are so important that extra precautions should be used to protect them.

Joe stirred and murmured on the bed. I looked back at him. His eyes were open but he looked as if he were still wavering between sleep and full consciousness.
His eyes shifted as he took in my state of undress.

"Mmmm," he said softly. "You're wearing my favorite outfit."

I laughed.

"Come back to bed," he patted the covers invitingly.

"Nope. It's 8:30. Time to start the day. Get up."

"Aw come on Dad," he smiled a sleepy smile. "Just five more minutes." 

I rolled my eyes, but I knew I wasn't going to push it.

"Okay, I'll take my shower first, but then you've got to get moving."

"You're a real nag sometimes, you know that?" Joe rolled over on his side and grimaced.

But I noticed as I headed to the bathroom that he'd grabbed my pillow and was breathing in my scent. A wave of tenderness washed over me and it left me breathless and I leaned into the doorframe remembering. 

We had been together over 10 years now, and the day-to-day grind had taken its toll as it does on all couples. There were periods when we took each other for granted, others when we bickered and even days where we couldn't stand the sight of each other. 

But then, there were moments like now. When my heart would race because I'd heard his key in the lock. When he'd follow me from room to room as if he couldn't bear to be out of my sight. When our bodies demanded the touch of the only person who could truly satisfy them. These were the moments we cherished. The memories they created saw us through the bad times.

It seems impossible to me now that I ever doubted this man I love so dearly. But it was true. And once, for a couple of very painful days, I didn't believe we could even be friends...



Thanksgiving Day, 1985

I hadn't slept the night before or the night before that. All I could think of was Joe's face as he'd looked at me for the last time. I tried to tell myself it was just as well that our friendship was over. It would've caused nothing but problems for both of us. You can imagine how well that worked. By turkey morning, I was having a full-blown pity party. 

Sandy, one of the nurses, came in and gave me a bath. She droned on and on about Thanksgiving and what a shame it was that I had to spend it here. I wanted to strangle her. Talk about a lousy bedside manner. Finally, to save her life, I ordered her out of the room. As she left, I could swear I heard her laughing. I'd never realized what a bitch she could be!

I dozed, ate, read, but I was restless. The day stretched ahead endlessly. Because it was a holiday, there wouldn't be any treatments or physical therapy. I hated that stuff, trust me, but at least it had been giving some definition to my days. I didn't even have a roommate. I'd been moved out of the Burn Unit a few days before and into a semi, but with the holiday everybody who could possibly be discharged had gone home. 

I flipped on the TV. There was a parade on every channel. I knew there'd be some games on later, but for obvious reasons, I wasn't really up for football. I put on a robe and went out in the hall but there wasn't anybody around. The patients who'd stayed were generally too sick to be mobile and the nurses must have been with them. 

I was only here because I had fresh skin grafts that needed tending. My burns had been, for the most part, superficial; all except my right hand. At first, there'd been a possibility I'd lose it, but with excellent care, and an amazing amount of luck, it looked like it would heal with only minimal loss of function. I'd need additional surgery down the road, but the doctors were optimistic. I guess it's amazing how well the recuperative process works in a healthy 18 year old. 

If my family had been close enough, my doctor would probably have even let me go home for the day. And I had to admit that even though I wasn't on the greatest terms with the parental units, it would have been better than being stuck here. 
I went back to my room. I thought about beating off. I'd been able to manage that again in the last few days, but my burns still hurt and I had to be really horny to be willing to put up with the discomfort. With a sigh I lay back down and closed my eyes.

I must have slept. I opened my eyes to the sound of a commotion in the hallway. Must be some emergency, I thought groggily. I glanced at the clock, 1 PM. Oh God; this day was never going to end. 

My door flung open and my 7-year-old brother, Rob, catapulted into the room.  

"Surprise!" He screamed as he threw himself on the bed.

I looked past him to see the rest of my family and what looked like the entire staff of the hospital, including Sandy the bitch, standing in my doorway.  Everybody had these huge grins on their faces as they took in the look of shock on my own mug.

"What?" My father boomed. "You really thought we were going to let you spend Thanksgiving alone?"

I started to cry. I couldn't help it. All the loneliness and hurt I thought I'd buried, erupted. Intellectually, I knew my parents still loved me, but it had been a long time since I'd felt emotionally connected to my family. It had never occurred to me they'd really want to be with me today, but here they were. I buried my face in my pillow as my shoulders started to shake. 

The room got suddenly silent and I felt Rob slide from the bed only to have his weight replaced with a heavier, softer body whose scent I've known since the day I was born. My mother's warm hands rubbed my back until I turned. She pulled me to her and stroked my hair as I continued to cry, soaking her blouse.

"Shh baby," she crooned. "Mom's here now, and everything is going to be okay."

Damned if I didn't believe her. It took me a few minutes to compose myself though I saw no reason to take my head away from the comfort of her breast. We sat there in silence, tied together in that unfathomable bond mothers have had with their children since Adam and Eve had their first kid.

"Where'd everybody else go?" I finally said.

"Down to the car, to get dinner," she replied matter of factly.

"What?" I lifted my head. "Don't tell me you hauled a turkey from Pennsylvania?"

"Of course," Mom said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Your dad went over to Mr. Schwartz's.  You know him; he has that catering business. He and your dad have become such good friends after that business at the lodge..."

"Mom!" She has a tendency to get off the subject. "You're doing it again."

"Okay, your father borrowed some of those containers that keep food hot or cold and yesterday I cooked and we loaded them up and after your dad got home we just hopped in the car and here we are."

My father has his own hardware store and he always works 8-7, five days a week, with an extra 5 on Saturdays for good measure. That meant, that after an 11-hour day, he'd been willing to get in a car and drive all the way to Michigan to see me. I couldn't believe it.

"We stopped in Ohio for the night but your father made everybody get up at 5 AM to get back on the road," she laughed. "I don't think Sarah is ever going to forgive him." My 14 year old, sister was, and still is for that matter, a famous bed hound.

"I can't believe you did this," I spoke the words carelessly, but at the sound of them my mother's soft stroking of my back stilled. 

"I wish it wasn't so hard for you to understand," she said sadly.

"Well Hell," my father's voice boomed from the doorway. "This looks just like an episode of The Walton's I saw once."

I reluctantly sat up and smiled at him.  "Hey Dad." 

Like I said before, I got my olive coloring and build from my old man but I'm a good five inches taller and he's ten pounds heavier. His hair is still black and curly though, with only a little bit of silver at the edges. His face is big and open with droopy brown eyes and a cute pug nose that looks kinda silly on such a big tough Italian stallion. The family name was originally Rossetti, until my grandfather decided if we were going to live in America we needed an American name, as if there were such a thing. 

The Zimmerman's, my mom's family, are like almost everybody else in our small town, of German descent. They are narrow faced with hooded eyes and lipless mouths. I inherited the first two features but not the last, thank god. My mom is a shorter softer version of her family's ancestry.  But she is saved from their normal severity by her mouth, a gift from her mother. It is wide and lush and she was kind enough to pass it on to me. 

My siblings, Sarah, Rob and eleven year old, Andy are an unmatched mix of the two families. Sarah is blonde, Rob is dark and Andy has red hair, though God knows where that came from. None of us really match each other but when you get us all together, you can definitely see we're related. 

As I was mulling over genetic traits, the rest of my family had poured back in the room depositing boxes of food on every available surface and were now trying to make a makeshift table out of the spare bed. God knows; if the mattress was as hard as the one I was lying on, it could work. I missed the burn unit's waterbeds. 

A few minutes later we were all standing around the "table" with me wrapped in a sheet, toga style, while my father prepared to say grace.

"Dear Lord..." He cleared his throat and started again.

"Dear Lord, Thank you for this amazing bounty we are about to share. Thank you even more for the opportunity you have given us to reunite once again. Today we celebrate the strength and love we will always have as long as we remember that anywhere we can be together is enough to make a place home. And we pray that you never let us forget that being part of a family is the greatest blessing in life. Amen."

For my Dad, that was quite a speech. My eyes filled again. My mother leaned across the makeshift table and stroked my arm. Sarah and the boys looked embarrassed and my father looked at me critically. For a long moment, nobody knew what to say.

"Hell son," my Dad finally broke the silence. "I'd die for you. In comparison to that, coming to Michigan was relatively easy!"

Everybody laughed and suddenly it was like the last couple years faded into the past. I was a part of this family, Dammit! I told them about school, they filled me in on all the gossip from town, I teased Sarah, about her new boyfriend and Andy about Mandy Finkbinder, who'd, had a crush on him from the first day of kindergarten. Through it all, we stuffed ourselves until Dad undid his pants and only Rob was interested in what was for dessert.

Dad and Sarah went out to get us some coffee, taking a couple of shoofly pies with them for the nurses. The rest of us tried to clear up some of the mess. 
Rob found a can of whipped cream in one of the bags and proceeded to squirt it in his mouth, his cheeks getting bigger and bigger until the foam started to leak out making him look like a rabid dog. Andy tried to grab the can and Rob shot him with a thick stream of the stuff and hit him right between the eyes. Andy tackled him and my mother started bitching and I was laughing when the phone rang.

I picked up the receiver and shouted into it to make myself heard over the screaming.  "Yeah?" There was silence on the other end of the phone, or maybe I just wasn't able to hear because of the noise. 

I covered the mouthpiece with my hand. "Hey, shut up you morons." I yelled at my brothers. "Can't you see I'm on the phone?" 

They quieted down to a dull roar and I went back to my mystery caller.  "Sorry about that," I said, "a pack of wild animals invaded my room and I can't find my whip or gun."

"Mike?" I got suddenly very still as I recognized the voice on the other end of the phone. 

My mother stopped trying to pry my brothers apart and looked at me strangely.

"Hi Joe." I finally managed to croak out.

Instantly, my brothers forgot about trying to kill each other and ran to my side.

"Is that Joe Lassiter?" Andy asked me. "Let me say hi to him."

"You talked to him last time!" Rob whined. "It's my turn."

"Why would he want to talk to a little kid like you?" Andy asked him scornfully.

My mother came over and grabbed both boys and hustled them off to the other side of the room. 

I was only dimly aware of any of this, you understand. My whole being was concentrated on what the man on the other side of the phone was saying. Unfortunately it wasn't much.

"Happy Thanksgiving." Joe sounded stiff.

"Thanks dude." I replied eagerly. I was so happy to hear his voice. I was like some wiggly puppy hearing his master's voice. If I'd had a tail I think I'd have wagged it. "Same to you."

"Er, thanks." He said still sounding unsure of himself. 

My imaginary tail stopped waiving. "I'm glad you called." I said quietly, aware now that the room around me had quieted and I had an avid audience.

"Yeah, well, my family is here and they were wondering how the surprise went," he went on in a dull tone.

His family, I thought. Of course, Joe had told his family about me before our fight. Naturally, they'd ask him about me now. I imagined he'd decided it would be better to not tell them about my confession and pretend we were still friends. Later, he could just say that we'd drifted apart after I'd gotten better. 

The imaginary tail, was now firmly between my legs.

"So how was it?" 

It took me a moment to have his question sink in.  "You knew!" 

I finally dawned on me that of course Joe would know about my parent's decision to spend Thanksgiving here. Hell, he'd probably orchestrated the whole thing.

"Your dad called me last week. Asked for the name of a motel," he explained.

"You never said a thing." 

"That's why it's called a surprise," some of the bounce had come back in his voice. I think he noticed too because he pulled back. "So was it a good one?" Once again his tone was flat. 

I looked at my brothers grinning at me; Mom holding on to their collars to keep them by her side. Dad had come back and was leaning in the doorway balancing cups of coffee. Sarah stood beside him, practicing looking cool.

"Yeah," I said softly, "it was a good one."

My mom let go of my brothers and they shot across room, but she was right behind them. She lifted her hand above their heads and tapped my arm.

"Give me that phone." She whispered urgently and I did as she ordered.

"Joe, this is Susan Ross," she listened for a moment, a grin lighting up her face. "Well the same to you young man. Listen, I just wanted to thank you for all the trouble you've gone through for us. It makes me feel so much better to know that Michael has such a good friend when he's so far from home. I hope some day we can meet, so I can thank you properly."

I could feel my face flush. Like that was ever going to happen. Joe was too nice a guy to tell my mother how he really felt about me, but I knew there was no way he'd ever be meeting her.

"Now I hope you don't mind," my mother continued. "But there are a couple of football crazy boys here who'd like to say hi to you."

"Mom!" Andy and Rob both moaned in mutual mortification, but when she handed the receiver to them their enthusiasm overcame their humiliation. As they took turns talking, Mom grabbed my hand and walked me over to the window.

"When we decided to surprise you, your Dad called Joe to get a recommendation for a motel. Joe said he'd get back to him, but when he did he said he had a friend, a girl, who was going to be out of town for the holidays and was willing to let us use her apartment."

"Betsy?" I guessed.

"That's right," she looked pleased. "You know her too?"

"She's a nurse here and..."

Mom cut me off with a wave of her hand.  "Anyway, she sent us the key so we're staying there tonight and after we stop in to see you in the morning we'll head on back home." Her bottom lip quivered. "I wish we could stay longer."

I gathered her into my arms awkwardly. It hurt my burns, but it felt so good otherwise. "I wish you could too." I kissed her on the cheek. "But Christmas is only a month away and I'll be home then." I never knew those words could sound so wonderful. 

She leaned back and poked me in the shoulder. "You better be." 

I smiled at her and gave her an extra squeeze, then I looked over to where my Dad was now taking a turn on the phone. I wanted to talk to Joe again, but I was afraid to at the same time. I listened to my father's voice.

"Just so long as you kick those Buckeye's asses. I can't stand those bastards!" 
He looked at my little sister and covered the receiver. "Sarah, do you want to say hi?" 

She shook her head so hard I thought she was going to dislocate her neck. "Oh my God Dad!" Her voice was horrified at even the suggestion that she would do anything that uncool. 

But I could tell though that she was dying to talk to the gorgeous quarterback and I had to pretend to cough to cover my laugh. 

My dad shrugged and turned back to the phone. "There's someone else in the room who'd love to talk to you, but she's pretending she's shy." 

Sarah groaned and ran from the room. Dad looked at me and winked. "Uh huh, well I'll be sure and tell her that, if I can ever get her out of whatever bathroom she's locked herself into." 

He listened to something on the other end of the phone and laughed. "You're right, torturing your children is one of the perks of parenthood." He started to waive me over, then held up his hand to stop me.

"Oh you have to go? Sure, I understand, I'll tell him goodbye for you. And thanks again son," he hung up the phone and looked at me. "His family was getting ready sit down to eat. He said to tell you goodbye."




The Human Condition Ch. 02



I nodded. There was a lump in my throat the size of the turkey we'd just demolished. I knew perfectly well that Joe was just using dinner as an excuse not to talk to me again. To Hell with it, I thought. Today had been a great day and my parents didn't deserve to see me moping around over something I'd brought on myself.

Surprisingly, it wasn't that hard to put Joe out of my mind and enjoy myself. Dad and the boys and I stretched out on the beds and watched TV, flipping channels to catch as many games as we could find. Sarah and Mom stuck it out for as long as they could, then split to some chick flick at the Quad, in the mall. When they came back, we all had turkey and cranberry sandwiches and a sampling of the half dozen or so pies Mom always made for the holidays because nobody could agree on which were their favorites. 

Afterwards, we watched the tube some more. This time it was Mom's turn to choose and she picked some mushy thing by Hallmark. The male contingency bitched, of course, but secretly we all liked it and everybody watched till the tear-jerking end. Everybody except Rob, who had finally overloaded his circuits with his fourth piece of pie and had succumbed to a sugar-induced coma. 

It was time for my family to leave. They'd already repacked the boxes, and the leftovers were stowed in the nurse's lounge refrigerator, so it was just a matter of boots and hats, and getting Rob to wake up long enough to shove his rubbery arms into his parka so he didn't freeze to death. 

My dad picked the kid up, gave me a knock on the shoulder and headed out to get the car warmed up. Sarah and Andy waived at the door and followed behind him. I was back in my own uncomfortable bed and my mother walked over and automatically started to tuck me in. 

When she saw me grin, she raised her eyebrows and smiled. "Sorry," she laughed. "Old habits are hard to break." She got serious again. "You're still my baby you know." She reached out and stroked my cheek. "You always will be. I'll always worry about you and love you and want the best for you. Nothing can ever change that."

"I'm glad to hear it," I reached up and covered her hand and squeezed it.

"Whatever makes you happy is okay by me," she continued.

"Thanks," I could hardly hear my own response.

"You're a good person Michael. A pain in the butt sometimes, but a good person." 

I laughed at that one and she smiled. 

"If you want," she said a little too nonchalantly. "You can invite that friend of yours to visit over the holidays."

My mouth dropped open. That was as close as my Mom would ever get to come right out and saying I could bring my lover home. The only problem was, I didn't have one. I cocked an eyebrow at her.

"He seems like such a nice boy when I talk to him. I'm sure he'd fit in with the rest of the family," she continued oblivious to the reaction she was causing in my head.

Jesus, she thought Joe and I were lovers! I couldn't stand it; suddenly the whole mess struck me as incredibly funny. I grinned till I thought my face would split.

"Mom," laughter underlining my voice. "I hate to break it to you, but Joe Lassiter is not gay." 

"He's not?" The woman actually sounded disappointed.

"Nope," I shook my head sadly. "Not even a little bit. The apartment you're staying in tonight, that belongs to his girlfriend."

"I thought you said it was a nurse's apartment?" She didn't seem to want to believe me.

"It is. Betsy is a nurse here," I paused for effect. "And she's Joe's lover."

"Oh," she let the information sink in. "Well Hell, invite him anyway. He still sounds nice." She kissed me while I was still laughing and walked out the door. My Mom, ya gotta love her. 

Fifteen minutes later my phone rang. I groaned as I tried to drag myself out of the depths of the sleep that had claimed me almost as soon as my family had left. I fumbled for the receiver. It had to be my Mom again. Another one of her habits was never going anywhere without leaving something behind. 

"What did you forget?" I said into the mouthpiece with a fake, long-suffering sigh. 

There was a surprised silence on the other end. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. Only my family and one other person had this number, something I'd forgotten when the phone had rung the first time.

"I forgot to apologize," Joe finally said in a matter of fact voice.

"I thought you were my Mom," I said inanely. 

"I didn't know there was a resemblance," he joked.

It was lame joke, but a wave of relieve rushed over me. If he could joke, maybe he could forgive. Then what he'd first said suddenly sunk into my turkey soaked brain.

"Wait a minute," I shook my head, trying to clear it. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm the one who lied to you, remember?"

"True," he agreed a little too readily for my piece of mind. "But then I acted like a total asshole." 

He waited like he expected an answer, but I couldn't think of anything to say.

"Feel free to disagree," he said finally.

"No," I was feeling better and better about this conversation. "I think you pretty much said it all."

"Yeah well, I talked to Josh about what happened..." He continued tiredly. 

"You told your brother?" I interrupted.

"Of course I did," Joe responded as if I'd just said something stupid. I kept forgetting, this guy was a twin; he shared everything with his brother. 
"And he said he admired you for having the courage to tell me at all."

"Well, it wasn't like it was a big secret," I was trying to be fair.

"That's what I told him." Joe agreed. "But he said that didn't matter. What was important was that you faced me with it even though you were fully aware of all the consequences. Sometimes I hate the God Damned Jesuits, you know?"

I grinned. Actually, I didn't know, we may have been half Italian but we were 100 percent Lutheran. However, anything that would repair my friendship with Joe was okay in my book.

"Then he called me a real jerk off and told me the only behavior I should be concerned with was mine, and since up to now, it hasn't been too good, I should be concerned a lot," he sighed. "The worst part was, he was right. I was acting like a selfish prick."

"It's okay," I protested.

"No, it's not," Joe disagreed. "I never even thought about how hard it was on you to have to tell me something I was too oblivious to figure out on my own. Why the Hell should I've expected you to tell me sooner? Are you supposed to be required to walk up to everyone you meet and say 'Glad to meet you, I'm gay', or maybe you should wear a pink armband or a tutu or something?"

"Now there's a thought," I said dryly.

"Yeah," he agreed glumly. "And I wish I'd never said it because now I've got this picture in my head..."

I burst out laughing.

"Trust me, it's not pretty!" He protested, but he was laughing too. "The point is," he said, serious again. "It doesn't really matter that you're gay."

"Joe..." I started to disagree.

"Okay, okay it matters, but it doesn't have to matter to us, to our friendship, right?" 

"But it's still going to be there," I cautioned. "It's part of who I am."

"Yeah, I know that and we'll deal with it," he thought a minute. "The thing is, I don't want to be one of those guys who only picks his friends because they're good for his image or they carry the right cachet." 

I winced at that one; but I knew he was right.

"I'm not stupid Mike and neither are you," He really did seem to have the ability to read my mind. "We both know that I'm probably going to take some flack for hanging around with a gay guy and you'll get hassled too. But I'm game if you are."

I considered what he'd just said. He was right; we'd both take a lot of heat for this, at least for a while. But that didn't worry me as much as what I hadn't confessed. 

How would Joe feel about our being buds, if he knew how I really felt?  Would he be so eager to stay friends if he knew I was in love with him?  I shook my head. It didn't matter because, that was one thing I was never going to tell him. 

"So are you?" He asked.

"Am I what?" I pulled myself away from my thoughts.

"Oh for Christ's sake you don't make things easy do you?" He snorted. "Are you willing to be my friend again?" 

I closed my eyes and swallowed hard. "Of course." 

If friendship was all he had to offer, then that was what I'd take.



The Human Condition Ch. 03



"Come on babe," I leaned over Joe and shook my head over his chest. "It's time to get moving." My hair was still dripping from the shower and cold drops fell on him waking him instantly.

"Arghh!" He grunted and grabbed my arm pulling me on top of him. His hands moved to my head and our lips met. 

I kissed him briefly then raised my head and shook it as he tried to pull me back to his mouth. "No way buddy, we're late as it is." I protested with all the strength of will I had as he started to lick that spot right behind my ear.

"Mmmmm, why not? It's Saturday, the day for fun and relaxation," he reached down and pulled my towel out from under me. 

"That's right, and today we're going to relax at the ball field, remember?" I tried to sit up, I really did, but his hand had slipped between my legs trying to reach the 'on' switch I seemed to have right behind my balls. 

"Oh God," I sighed as he found it; the man knew all my buttons. 

I made one last ditch argument for being ready on time. An argument, I might add; that I was rapidly hoping to lose.

"They're going to be here in an hour and you still have to shower and if we keep doing this I'll have to take another one." But my arms had snaked around his waist and were, even as I spoke, stroking his back lightly, urging him closer.

"Good, we can shower together," he bit lightly at my ear and I shivered involuntarily.

"God, what got into you to make you so horny?" 

Joe stopped his nibbling and looked at me with fake disappointment. "How soon they forget." He sighed ostentatiously. "That's okay just use me and forget me." 
He went back to attacking my neck.

I hadn't forgotten. Last night had been a rarity for us. In our normal choice of lovemaking, I bottom. I like it that way and so does Joe. But, on occasion we get the urge to switch. The result is usually spectacular which we both agree must be, in part, because it doesn't happen very often. 

I know this doesn't make sense. If it feels so great why don't we do it more often? I can't explain; it just works that way for us. 

One of the most interesting side effects of our role reversal is the effect it has on Joe's libido. For two or three days afterwards the man is insatiable. Of course I complain, but he doesn't pay any attention to me. Especially, since I can't keep the shit-eating grin off my face while I'm bitching.

"Oh damn!" I sighed wearily. After all, I have to keep up pretenses don't I? "You promised this wouldn't happen this time."

He moved like lightening and flipped me over until he was sitting straddled on my pelvis, my now hard cock resting in the crack of his ass. He leaned down and licked my lips. 

"I lied," he said softly and my cock throbbed in glee. 

He lifted himself to his knees and slid down moving between my legs until he could stretch out. Our cocks touched and did a dance of recognition. We both always had a lot of precum and we slipped and slid together now, our breath getting harsher and our hips more urgent.

"Now," Joe whispered. "I want your mouth now."

"Turn around," I grunted hoarsely, my mouth already salivating in anticipation of the treat it knew it was getting. 

He obeyed. Just like he did every time I ordered him to do exactly what he wanted. As I took his hard tool in one long practiced gulp, I felt him lick my knob and grab my balls with the determination of a man on a mission. I moaned, vibrating his cock deep in my mouth.

"Oh God!" He growled in response then went back to licking his favorite lollipop.

It didn't take long for him. The feel of his cum splashing down my throat set me off and I found myself gripping his thighs spasmodically as I fought to catch every drop of his sweet seed. I held him in my mouth until he softened while he lapped me clean like a cat. We both moved to meet in the middle of the bed, our arms entwined; our tongues trading cum soaked kisses. Eventually, we collapsed back on the bed in a reversal of our positions of earlier in the morning.

"How can it be," Joe's head rested on my chest as he lazily circled a nipple with his finger. "That this keeps getting better?"

"Beats the Hell out of me, but ain't it loverly."

I know there are a lot of people out there, straight and gay who insist that the sex is at the beginning of a relationship. I don't agree. I've had my share of beginnings and so has Joe, but for both of us, the intimacy of a mature relationship is the ultimate satisfaction. Who could ever know me better than him? What I like, what I want, what I need. 

"I knew you couldn't hold out," he said smugly as he snuggled in closer.

"Think you're so irresistible do you?"

"Only to you babe, only to you."

I kissed the top of his head in silent agreement. He looked up at me and grinned.

"And to think, there was a time you didn't want me for a roommate..." 



April 20, 1988

"It ain't fucking going to happen," I said to Joe as we stood outside the manager's office of the apartment complex.

"Why not?" He stopped and waited for an answer, but I just kept on walking. He sighed and caught up with me and stopped me with a hand on my sleeve.

"I don't see what's the problem here," he argued. "You like the apartment, I like the apartment, let's rent the damn thing and be done with it."

Now it was my turn to sigh. I'd been looking for an apartment for senior year for about 3 weeks now. Carl, my roommate since my freshman days, was getting married and would be moving into married student housing when he returned in the fall. 

I was sick to death of dorm life anyhow, so I'd decided to try to find a place of my own. My job as a billing processor at a local law firm didn't pay very much, but that, and the allowance my folks insisted on still sending me, would allow me to afford a small efficiency somewhere. 

The problem was that most of the housing around Ann Arbor was set up for multiple roommates and I just didn't see me going that route. Frankly, I never liked living with a bunch of guys. I longed to have some space of my own, but the apartments I could afford were either snapped up before I could see them or were sties a pig wouldn't live in. 

That morning I finally seemed to have gotten a break. A friend called and said a girl who lived in his complex in Ypsilanti was breaking her lease because she'd decided to move in with her boyfriend and would I be interested. Hell yes, I was interested. 

I was supposed to meet Joe at the library so I swung around and picked him up and told him there'd been a change in plans. He'd been hearing me bitch for weeks about finding a place so he knew I'd have to jump on it if I wanted to seal this deal. He went with me to the complex only to experience first hand what I'd been putting up with since I'd started apartment shopping. 

She was really sorry, the pretty young thing behind the desk said as she batted her eyes at Joe, but the apartment was already spoken for. Joe batted back and asked if she didn't have anything we could look at. 

I knew what she wanted to show him. But instead, she pulled up a screen on a computer and grabbed a key out of drawer and said to follow her.
She took us to a corner apartment on the top floor of one of the newer buildings. When we walked through the door, I immediately knew this was way out of my price range. The living room was big and modern, all angles with a cathedral ceiling and a skylight. There was a fireplace in the corner and a wet bar on the wall and it looked like a Hollywood movie set. I stopped and started to say something but Joe was behind me and he pushed me forward into the room.

"Wow," he whistled softly. "This is great."

The girl, smiled at Joe and told him her name was Kelly. She chattered on about space and light and said the bedrooms were on the right. She walked down a hall and Joe followed.

"What are we doing?" I hissed in his ear as I caught up to him. "I wouldn't be able to pay for this if I had six roommates."

"It doesn't cost to look does it?" He smiled and shrugged and went into a bedroom that was as big as my parents whole upstairs.

I'm not sure when I caught on to what he was thinking. Maybe it was when his eyes lit up at the sight of the Jacuzzi, or when he asked Kelly about the possibility of garage space, but before we'd even gotten to the kitchen with its JennAir stove and built in trash compactor I'd figured out what was on his mind. 

We walked back to the office. At the door I asked Kelly if she minded if Joe and I talked alone for a minute. She giggled and shrugged her shoulders and said she'd be waiting and left us. I turned to Joe and saw he was grinning. My heart sank.

"No," I looked at him sternly.
"Yes," he said, still smiling.

"You already have a place to live next year," I continued. 

"I'm tired of the frat house," he protested.

"You love the frat house," which I knew to be true. The boy was as gregarious as they come. "And anyway, I couldn't pay my share." 

In my innocence I really believed that would end the discussion.

"So pay what you can." He shrugged. "I'll make up the difference."

It didn't surprise me that he could make the gesture. Joe was a TFB, or trust fund baby if you need it spelled out. Yeah, not only was he handsome, smart and athletic; he was also rich. But he wasn't very comfortable about it. 

I'd only learned about it myself because I'd inadvertently heard him on a call to his stockbroker and realized he wasn't just talking about 5 shares of AT&T like my granddad left me. When I'd point blank asked him if he was wealthy, he'd nodded reluctantly, but asked me to keep it to myself. He'd apparently had enough of people who only liked him for his money so he kept quiet about it and let everybody think his family was just 'comfortable'. 

It wasn't really difficult to pull off. The rest of his family was just as unostentatious about their money as he was. I'd seen a picture of his family home and, although it was fairly large, it looked more like a big farmhouse than an estate. Too, whenever his parents made it to Ann Arbor they arrived in an older model Volvo station wagon so, nobody had tumbled to his little deception except yours truly. 

But the money was definitely there, and now it looked like Joe had decided to spend some of it. His only problem was that I wasn't going along with the plan.

"Can't let you do that Dude," I shook my head.
"No way you can stop me Bro," he grinned and went into the office. I stayed on the sidewalk and seethed.

It wasn't that I was entirely opposed to Joe as a roommate. In fact if I was honest about it, he was the only person I knew that I'd even consider moving in with. But even as the thought entered my head, I knew it would never work. 

After that first Thanksgiving at school, we had remained friends. He'd continued to visit at the hospital and, when I was released, he'd drop down the hall to see me and get away as he said, from the assholes, his pet name for the huge circle of friends who always seemed to congregate in his room. I was not part of that circle. It was an unspoken understanding between us that I did not intrude on that part of his life.

I know, that sounds like Joe was the biggest asshole of them all. But you have to understand this was just as much my choice as his. And my reasons were far more selfish. Simply put, I liked having Joe's undivided attention when we were together. 

So even though at first, he'd politely tried to include me in get-togethers with his friends, we'd settled into a routine that pretty much kept our relationship exclusive, if limited. We would meet for a beer maybe once a week, in my room if Carl was out, or down at one of the local watering holes otherwise. And every Sunday afternoon we'd head to the library to study and shoot the shit with the emphasis on the shit part. 

As for the fallout I'd expected from our being friends well, it just never happened. Amazing isn't it. Just when you think you've come to grips with the inequities of life, something nice happens. I'd been prepared for sneers, fights, at the very least an innuendo or two, but it never came. Instead of insults, the only response I ever got from one of his friends was an occasional clap on the back and a 'Hi Mike, how's it going dude?' Really took the wind out of my sails, I can tell you.

My Mom did actually meet him on her next visit to campus the spring of my freshman year. Like every other woman who knew him, she was utterly charmed by his boyish smile and kind eyes. He hit it off with my Dad too, and arranged for him to play a round of golf with Beau, something he still talks about to this day.

My brothers, of course, idolized him. Especially, after he took a Saturday afternoon to show them around the stadium including a trip to the team's lockers and training rooms. When he gave each of them a team football complete with autographs they were speechless for almost 15 minutes and forgot to keep up their constant bickering.

Even Sarah forgot her Ms Cool act around Joe and she giggled and chattered with an unconscious delight nobody had seen in her since she hit puberty. To this day, she has a framed picture I took of the two of them, by her bed. They're in front of our dorm, their arms wrapped around each other as they stick out their tongues at the camera. At the bottom is Joe's autograph and the picture is addressed, 'To Sarah, the little sister I always dreamed of having, Joe'.

I met his folks too, on several occasions. They would take us to dinner and his father, Bill, an older, darker version of his son, would argue about politics, telling us our liberal views would fade with time and success. Joe's mother, Alice, would roll her eyes and take our side and tease her husband until we would all be laughing so hard the other diners would stare.

Things would only get serious again when the talk came around to Josh, Joe's brother. Then Bill's face would turn somber and he'd sit there silently while Alice showed Joe his brother's letters and the pictures he would sometimes send home. 

Bill didn't like it that his son was to be a priest. Joe told me when Josh had announced his decision his father had gone into a rage. When Josh had tried to make him understand that he felt God needed him, Bill's response was that he needed him too. 

Bill and Alice had always planned on a big family but an ectopic pregnancy had ended those hopes and almost ended Alice's life. Bill had accepted that, but he'd only postponed the need for family. 

Now it was grandchildren he craved and Josh's choice of vocation had cut his chances in half. He had struggled to come to terms with his loss and his love for his son had allowed him to do so. But he would never be able to actually take pleasure in his son's choice. 

As for Josh, I never met him when we were in college. The seminary he'd picked was strict and his vacations were short and limited to brief visits to Chicago. Occasionally Joe would read me a passage out of his letters or tell me stories of them when they were kids. I only knew Josh as a rumor. A boy with the face of my friend, but a soul and an identity I couldn't begin to imagine. 

But not so Joe; as the years passed, we forged a bond that would be necessary later when events would take us to the extraordinary places we'd never imagined would be our fate. I think of those first three years of our friendship as the foundation of our lives. It is thick and tough and built of words and ideas that solidified into the basis of the men we are today. 

We talked about everything, covered every topic imaginable, politics, religion, the validity of big time wrestling, nothing was off limits. Well, almost nothing. 

We never talked about sex. Which is amazing when you remember that we were in our late teens, early twenties, a time in life when the normal male conversation always ends up being about sex. How you liked it, where you found it, when you'd had it last, when you were going to get some more...

With Joe and I, the subject was strictly off limits. When he was still dating Betsy he'd occasionally mention her name, but Betsy, like Jenny, was now ancient history. She'd graduated our sophomore year and had moved to San Francisco to experience the whole, big city lifestyle. 

But even when she was there, I didn't get involved. I saw her once in a while, on campus or around town, sometimes with Joe, sometimes not. We'd wave or make nice for a few minutes but we never recaptured the intimacy we'd known in the hospital. When she left, I thought Joe would want to talk about it, but he never offered and I never asked. 

He didn't seem very broken up over it though. We only had a couple more weeks to go before the end of the semester and he seemed to enjoy his new found, freedom, celebrating with a never ending round of parties and plenty of flirting, though no one replaced Betsy as far as I could tell.

He started dating seriously again when we returned for our junior year. Joe wasn't the kind of guy who was comfortable without a girlfriend. I couldn't help but be aware of it. Shit, there was always some girl hanging all over him, and always a few more waiting in the wings playing understudy. 

I'd see him with somebody at a game or at some bar afterwards and we'd acknowledge each other with a nod or maybe meet while fetching drinks. But he never introduced me, never slipped their names into a conversation, never bitched about girl problems in our weekly bull sessions. 

As for me, I have to admit I was conducting my own sexual adventures. Joe had told me that Ann Arbor was a wide-open town; he had no idea how right he was. From leather to lace, gay is an established, and for the most part, accepted lifestyle in that educational Mecca. Now I fully admit, I'm a strictly vanilla kind of guy, even then. But I was young, far away from home and the disapproving eyes of my parents and very, very available.

What you expect me to say for Christ's sake! That I sat in my room every night and pined for the straight guy? Not a chance. Okay, so I loved the guy. So what. He was straight; I was gay, end of discussion. 

Even in high school, I'd always thought it was stupid when a group of my gay friends would get together and start yaking about how hot some hetero was and how wonderful it would be if they could get him into bed. My contention had always been that if we were so vocal about people needing to accept us for what we were, then how could we turn around and talk about forcing our choices on somebody else. 

Ironic as shit isn't it? Hoisted on my own petard, whatever the Hell that means.

So, I put my feelings for Joe into a box and shoved it to the back of my mind. I tried to never take it out except sometimes, in the dark, late at night, when my hand would reach for my cock and my fingers would curl around the wood. I'd remember and I'd imagine that it was another hand that stroked me and I'd groan silently and whisper his name and I would cum. 

In the morning, I would shove the box and it's temptations away again and I would go on with the life that was reality, not wishful thinking. And when I would see Joe, I would clap him on the back and call him dude and never, not for a moment, did I ever let on that my knees had turned to water and my heart was doing somersaults while my lungs filled with the aroma that was his alone. 

At first I thought I would go crazy from the deception. But as the days turned into weeks, I would take the box out less and less and my knees began to stiffen and my heartbeat slowed and one day I realized it had been months since I'd thought of Joe as anything but a friend. I was relieved but curiously empty too. 

Such is the perversity of the human condition. The drive to love, to connect, is so strong that any attraction, no matter how hopeless, fills us. I had crushed my sexual love for Joe, but I hadn't found anyone to replace him. 




The Human Condition Ch. 03



I had, however, found plenty who were willing to share my bed, figuratively if not literally; there was my very straight roommate after all. I met a variety of men, and much like Joe, I found I liked having someone to date. I may never have fallen in love with any of them, but I managed to fall in like several times and in lust with even more regularity. 

I practiced safe sex; at least as safe as a teenager is capable of in a testosterone haze, and as I said before, my tastes were pretty mild. I'd never been big on the clubs. I was too scared of AIDS to try the baths, and glory holes just struck me as silly. Now, I don't look down on those who like those scenes; far be it for me to tell somebody else how to live their life. It just wasn't what I was interested in. I was looking for some kind of relationship, not anonymous sex. A couple of times, I even found a variation of the beast.

There was Bobby in my freshman year. He was a closet case who approached me when he'd found out, through some of his less impressed friends, that I was gay. We'd spend lazy afternoons in a room in the attic of a friend of mine's house. I'd stick my cock into his various holes and he'd moan and thrash and tell me he loved it, could never get enough. For a while I thought it would all work out; that he'd come to terms with his needs and realize that being gay wasn't the sin his Baptist minister insisted it was.

But we never got past the sneaking around stage, and I finally got tired of the bullshit and gave him an ultimatum. He cried and begged me to be patient, but I was adamant, sure that all he needed was this one little push. I never saw him again. I heard he got married his junior year to some girl from his church league. Bet that's an interesting marriage.

Colin was next. He, had no problem telling everybody about us, reveled in it in fact. He told me he was a risk taker and, after seeing him in action a couple of times, I believed him. He liked to jump out of airplanes; he liked to climb mountains, but most of all he loved to fuck in public. 

He'd show up at my door with his come hither smile and hither I'd go, to a park or a movie or one time, for shit's sake, to the blacksmith's shop at Greenfield Village. We'd suck or jerk each other off with an unaware audience and more than once I blessed the fact that our affair took place in winter when my coat went a long way towards hiding the wet spot(s) I invariably came home with after a date with Colin. 

The sticking point, bad pun, in our relationship came on the day he wanted to insert his Tab A into my Slot B at the Maritime Cathedral in downtown Detroit. Now I had no real reverence for organized religion, particularly after Bobby.  But doing the nasty in church sounded a lot like spitting in the eye of God; something I wasn't comfortable with at all. 

There was another issue too. At that point I had never taken a cock in my ass. I wasn't totally adverse to the idea, it just hadn't been something my other partners had been too interested in pursuing. And I'd have done it with Colin, if he'd been willing to forgo the exhibitionism and had shown the slightest interest in getting me prepared for the big (not really) event. He wasn't and the thought of my first time being so public and well, painful...

Nope, wasn't going to happen. 

I explained my reasoning to Colin. I was eloquent, but forceful. He seemed to except it, and I was pretty pleased with myself for standing my line. That is, until a friend told me that Colin had spent the night in jail for lewd conduct in a public place. He'd found another guy, apparently not so fastidious as me, to act out his fantasy. 

Things would have been all right, as he told me later after we were speaking again, if the boy hadn't have been a screamer. I decided Colin and I were not meant to be love's young dream.

After Colin, I played the field. There was the married guy who was grateful for every lick of my agile tongue, and the twink who liked it a little rough. The professor who could only cum if he was wearing a garter belt, and the little short guy who greeted me at the door wearing a storm trooper's uniform when I picked him up for our first, and last, date. 

I don't think he liked it when I laughed so hard I, cried. The way he slammed the door in my face was a clue. 

There were others too. Most of whom, I'm embarrassed to admit, I barely remember. A long line of cocks is how I think of them now. Flesh hot and turgid, balls filled with milky cum, all for my enjoyment. And, to be honest, anyone else's that cared to make the effort.

Yep, my first three years away from home had become the kind of sexual banquet that stroke stories are written about. But I wasn't a kiss and tell kind of guy. Not even to my gay friends let alone to somebody like Joe. 

So, instead of trying to figure out the intricacies of babes of either sex, we spent our time talking about Coleman Young, the last of the great or horrendous, depending on your point of view, big city bosses, or classes we hated or loved. Or sports, my favorite subject, though not surprisingly enough, Joe's, unless baseball was the game in question. 

This even included football, though you'd have thought that would have been one subject he'd always want to talk about. But he always insisted when his college eligibility was over, so was his football career.  Joe could not be swayed, even though there were plenty of pro teams who would have loved to change his mind. He wanted medical school, not a Superbowl ring.

He was so sure of his desire for a career in medicine, that he had a hard time dealing with my obvious inability to make a decision about what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. The only thing he had postponed was what specialty he'd choose. I, on the other hand, was halfway through my Junior year, and still hadn't declared a major. 

I toyed with the idea of business--too boring, then media--too fake, and then I thought about a career in academia. After all, the only thing I really liked to do was be a student and with a professorship in mind, I could stay in school for another 6 or 7 years. Joe thought it was a great idea, although by that time, I think he'd have been relieved if I'd decided to be a Ronald MacDonald clown; anything, so long as I settled on something. 

I went to my advisor, Dr. Richard Cline, and told him my decision to declare in Art History. Fuck it, I'd taken a class in it and liked it, sort of, and it sure sounded professorial. 

Dr. Cline's enthusiasm was less than stellar. He snorted and told me that football player I hung out with looked more like Indiana Jones than I did and if I was so unsure about what I really wanted, I'd be whole lot better off screwing up my life in a profession that at least other people had heard of; like the law. He looked at me over his wire rims and raised his bushy eyebrows and just like that I decided. I'd be a lawyer. 

It seems funny now, but I'd never even thought about law school. But from that moment on, I realized it was perfect for me. In case you haven't tumbled to it by now, I was smart. Maybe not as brilliant as Joe, certainly not in the science department anyway, but I got good, even excellent grades, in everything else and my mental agility was one of the things I liked most about myself. 

Law school would be just the kind of challenge I thrived on and best of all, there was no Chemistry requirement. With a law degree, I could go into a number of fields and, if it turned out that I didn't like any of them, the three years it would take me to finish the graduate work would give me some leeway to finally figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up. 

I thanked Dr. Cline and told him he'd just convinced me. His eyebrows rose again, but he had the sense to keep his opinions to himself. We shook hands and I left, eager to tell the world about my epiphany.

My parents were thrilled. My friends started planning my career as a gay activist counselor. Joe was, thoughtful. 

His reaction deflated me a little and I asked him if he thought I was making a mistake. He shook his head and said no, he just wanted to make sure I was doing what I wanted to do. It seems that I had really convinced him that Art History was the great love of my life. Good trick when I never believed it myself. 

I assured him, that this time I really was happy with my decision and was surprised to find that I was, for once, speaking the plain truth. He saw it too and a big grin spread over his handsome face. Six hours later we were holding each other up in a drunken haze and swearing semper fi while planning our futures as an ambulance chaser and a malpractice lawyer's wet dream. 

It was a couple months later when we went on our now infamous house hunting expedition for me... 

I watched Joe's cute ass swagger into that office and for the first time I felt like I could learn to hate him. I could barely breath I was so pissed at him. I didn't take time to analyze my reaction. I only knew that on some level it felt wonderful. 

I had driven my car, a beat up 1970 Duster that still ran great but had more rust than paint and torn upholstery that left white clumps of lint on your ass. I got back into it and gunned the engine. 

I thought about leaving Joe but he'd probably con a ride and God knows what else out of Kelly and no way did I want this to turn out to be a good experience for him. I waited, my fingers tattooing a drum solo on the steering wheel. 

Finally, Joe came out. In his hand was a sheaf of papers that I didn't have to look at to figure out what they were. He climbed in the car. He was whistling; one look at my face and he stopped.

"You're not really mad are you?" 

I slammed the car in reverse and peeled out of the parking lot. Joe groped wildly for the end of his seat belt.

"Guess you are." 

"You are such an asshole. Of all the arrogant, stupid, unthinking stunts!" I was grinding my teeth so the words came out in a hiss. 

"Hey, come on," Joe replied mildly. "I just thought it might be fun."

"Oh, you thought it might be fun," I was just getting started. "Then it's okay, cause the great Joe Lassiter thought it might be fun! What was I thinking? Of course if you think it might be fun, then by all means we should do it." I shouting now and still driving like a maniac. It felt terrific. 

Joe sat up straight, his face grim, his mouth a hard line. He didn't look at me but that didn't make me shut up.

"Yeah, what was I thinking? I couldn't possibly be wondering when my feelings were supposed to be considered in this grandiose plan of yours?"

"That's enough," he spoke quietly, but I heard him fine. I just chose to ignore him.

"Quite a little pied a terre that place could be for you and your friends. And the chicks, man they'd love it. Meanwhile I could sit in my room or maybe you think I'd be handy in the kitchen, maybe whip up a little quiche?"

"I said; that's enough!" 

He grabbed the wheel a second before I rammed a cyclist who'd had the nerve to be riding down the same road as me. I slammed on the brakes and the car shuddered to a stop. I took my hands off the wheel and looked at them. They were shaking. A whoosh of air left my lungs, and with it all the rage that had filled me only moments ago.

"God Dammit, Mike!" Joe whispered. "Are you trying to kill someone? Look, I'm sorry if you think what I did was so wrong. You need a place. I thought this might be the solution. I guess I was wrong."

"It would never work." I agreed tiredly.

To my amazement, that was the statement that finally pissed Joe off. I had sworn at him, screamed at him, tried to kill him for Christ sake, and it wasn't until I said the first rational thought that had come into my mind in quite a while that he decides to get ticked.

"Yeah, you're right Mike. It wouldn't work." He unsnapped his seatbelt and flung the car door open and jumped out. 

The door slammed before I had a chance to ask him where in the fuck he was going, we were miles from campus. I thought he must have realized this when five paces out he suddenly pivoted, came back and opened the door.

"But you know what buddy?" He didn't wait for an answer. "If we aren't good enough friends it's not because of me!"

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means pal, I'm not the one who keeps half himself locked up inside so tight, nobody gets in. It means, I don't know how to reach you, to make you see that I want to be there for you. I don't want to just get together when, and if, you think it's appropriate. And just because your gay and I'm not, doesn't mean our lives can't intersect a little more socially."

"You like it that way."

"Bullshit. I'm not the one who shut you down everytime you started to talk about something I felt might be getting a little personal. I'm not the one who refused every invitation to meet your friends. Hell, I never had the chance; you never asked." He shook his head. "God I must be really obtuse. I guess I wanted to be your friend so much, it never occurred to me that you didn't feel the same way."

With that, he slammed the door again and trudged off. I watched him go with my mouth hanging open like some kind of idiot. 

What the fuck was he talking about? I had always been so concerned about his feelings. I never pushed him to do more because I knew it would make him uncomfortable to be seen too much with a gay guy. That's why I turned down his invitations to frat parties and after game keggers with the team. And as for not inviting him into my circle, that was ludicrous. My friends wouldn't have interested him. 

I stopped short. I thought about Saul and Kevin, two guys from the now famous Art History class. Saul was majoring in Anthropology and he knew a lot about forensic science, something that fascinated Joe. Kevin was the funniest guy I knew with a wicked sense of the ridiculous; I'd never met anybody that didn't love being around him. 

But I'd never introduced either of them to Joe, and the only reason was because they were gay. They lived together as a couple and although they weren't particularly effeminate, they were openly affectionate and unapologetic about who, and what they were. In my small, little mind, I guess that had been enough to make me think that Joe would be uncomfortable around them. 

But was that the truth, or had I gotten so caught up in proving what a real man I was to Joe, that I couldn't stand the thought of him seeing me in a gay setting? In that moment, all my perceptions clicked one degree to the left and I saw with awful clarity how wrong I'd been in my judgments of Joe. 

He hadn't been being polite when he'd invited me to join in with his friends; he'd wanted me to be there. In the beginning, he'd tried to talk to me about girls and he'd tried to get me to do the same about the guys I'd dated, but I'd always shut him up with a smart ass answer until he finally got the message and never brought either subject up again. 

I'd told myself we were setting necessary limits, but that was bullshit. I'd been the one to define the relationship, and the only reason it was necessary was because I said so. I looked at myself in the rear view mirror. Shit, could I be such an asshole? Unfortunately, the answer was yes. Jesus, I realized, I was the biggest homophobe I knew! 

I started the car and began looking for Joe. He wasn't hard to find, he'd only made it about 2 blocks. I pulled over beside him and leaned over to open the passenger door.

"Get in."

He kept walking.

"Goddamn it Joe, get in."

He stopped and turned to look at me. The look in his eyes made me ashamed but I held his stare. He finally shook his head and turned away.

"Do you even know where you're going?" I tried again. "Do you even know where you are?"

He stopped again, then slowly came over and got in the car. I sighed in relief then felt my stomach knot up as I prepared to speak. 

He beat me to it. "If you'll take me home, I promise I'll leave you alone after that."

"No." I was surprised at how strong my voice sounded.

Joe raised his eyebrows in shock. "You won't take me home?"

"No, I'll take you home, but I won't let you out of my life."

"Mike..."

"Let me finish, no, let me apologize. What you said back there was right," I swallowed and plowed on. "I haven't been fair to you. Or it seems to anyone else. I have these preconceived notions about how things are supposed to work and guess I was trying to impose judgments on the people I know."

"Aren't you the guy that's always saying there are no more stereotypes?" He was already forgiving me.

"Yeah and I was right. I just didn't know it at the time."

Joe chuckled. "S'okay. Forget about it."

"You're too easy on me." I responded. It was one of the things that always touched me about this guy, his capacity to accept and let bygones be bygones.

"I just don't like to see the people I care about feeling bad," he raised his eyebrows and stared at me assessingly for a moment. "You have a date tonight?"

"Not really but..." I could see where this was heading.

"But," he sighed. "You have plans."

"Just dinner and a movie with some friends." 

He nodded in resignation. 

I grinned at him. "But I bet they wouldn't mind if you tagged along."

I felt ashamed again when I saw the pleasure and shock register in his eyes at the sound of the invitation. I was meeting Saul and Kevin. I wondered if they'd be just as surprised when they saw me show up with Joe. 

They knew we were friends, but they'd never even seen him up close. They teased me about my 'secret pal' and for the first time I wondered how much hurt had been behind the banter.

"That'd be great, Missy is out of town tonight, one of her old friends is getting married and she's having a shower."

"So her name is Missy? How long has this one lasted?" I pulled the car away from the curb and carefully made my way back to Ann Arbor. 

"Three months, she's a nice kid, but too many of her friends are getting married and I'm afraid she's come down with the 'I want a ring too' virus."

"Can't have that."

"No we can't," we both laughed and I realized that this conversation was kind of fun. 

"And what about you?" He asked. "Seeing anyone special?"

I tensed, had I just thought this conversation was pleasant? But I knew that if Joe and I were to continue as friends this was one question I was going to have to answer. "Nope. Not someone who means anything to me."

"But there is someone?" He pushed.

"Well yes," I sighed ostentatiously, "there's always someone." I made myself go on. "His name is Rick."

Joe grinned. "I think we're a lot alike."

I snorted. "I doubt it bud."

"Sure we are," he disagreed, "just opposite, you know positive and negative."

"Gee thanks."

"No that's not what I meant, more like left and right, north pole and south pole," he was nervous and digging himself in deeper; I let him wallow. "Yin and yang. Oh fuck it." He threw his hands up in the air. "It seemed like I knew what I meant at the time."

I looked at him seriously for as long as I could then I couldn't help it and started to laugh.

"Asshole." He muttered.

"But listen," I said when I had myself under control again. "There is something I need to tell you seriously."

"Okay..."

"The guys we're going out with tonight; they're a couple."

"Yeah, so what's you point?" He was wary again. 

"Well I know how you like to be informed of these little social niceties and since I don't think they'll be wearing any tutu's or pink armbands..." I had never let him forget that comment.

"Aw Jesus Christ, now you got me thinking about that again!" He shook his head in mock disgust. But he was grinning. And so was I.



The Human Condition Ch. 04



"Did you get the 23rd off?" I asked sleepily. 

My law partner was finally tying the knot and it was Joe's and my job to make sure he got there on time. Not an easy task when you knew his nickname was Late Again Murphy.

We were still in bed. I knew I should make an issue out of it, but it was so warm and nice and quiet. It had been a long time since Joe and I had had this much lazy time together. Our jobs, our friends and family seemed to eat up the days. Not mind you, that I'd have traded any of it. Still, to be able to lie in this bed with my lover was heaven.

"Yeah, I traded with Mark, but it means I'm going to have to work the next two weekends."

"Next weekend? Your Mom wanted us to come over and help her get out the porch furniture."

"You're a big guy," Joe grinned. "I'm sure you can handle it by yourself."

"Terrific," I stretched. "No wonder she likes me best."

"In your dreams."

We snuggled silently for a few minutes longer. I moved closer to him and my hand slid down, inadvertently I swear, to Joe's cock. It twitched.

"Oh," I groaned. "Do not even think about it."

"Then quit trying to wake him up!"

"You're a hound you know it?" I moved my hand back up to a safer place on his chest."

"And you love it." 

We kissed, but we both knew there wasn't time even if we could have gotten the equipment working again, which was unlikely. We weren't 22 anymore.

"Hey Mike," Joe sat up. "Did you get a hold of the painters?"

"They'll be here next week, which should work out okay because the furniture is supposed to be delivered on the 16th."

"Of which month?" Joe said sarcastically.

We'd had experience with furniture deliveries before. The house we lived in was great, a modern multilevel with lots of light and space. But the previous owners decorating was for shit. I mean it would have been fine if you were a Colombian drug lord, but it didn't fit our lifestyle.

As first time home owners, we had blithely thought that all of the mistakes could easily be fixed. That had been five years ago and our innocence was long gone.

"The carpet is already at the warehouse, they're just waiting for the painters."

"God I hope they got it right this time," Joe laughed and I grinned back. 

I knew he was remembering the day we'd both come home from a very hard day at our jobs only to find wall to wall purple plush carpeting installed in the living room instead of the beige Berber we'd actually chosen. 

I'm not talking mauve or even violet here. I mean vibrant, pulsating, right in your face, purple. The guys at the carpet shop were aghast when I called and told them to rip it up and get it out of our house. They said it was a special order and they couldn't return it. I said I had the receipt to prove they blew it and I didn't give a damn what they did with it, but it wasn't going to stay in my living room. 

You know, it wasn't too long after that, that a big dinosaur named Barney made his debut on TV. Coincidence? Maybe...

"I went over and checked. It's the right stuff."

"Well that's something at least," Joe stood and walked over to closet. "The Reynolds' invited us on their boat for the Fourth."

"Ugh!"

"I know, he's the most boring human being on earth, but he's my boss."

He pawed through the closet then turned to me. "Have you seen my Cubs jacket?"

"No."

"Damn, I think I left it at the cleaners."

"You'll live."

"But it's my lucky jacket."

"Joe," I laughed. "The Cubs don't need luck, they need a fucking miracle."

"Hey!" He turned and pounced on me. "Those are my boys you're slamming. And besides," he kissed my nose, "it's only June, they still have a chance."

"If every other team quits, maybe," I convulsed with laughter as he started to tickle me.

"Holy shit," Joe had caught site of the clock. "Look at the time!" He slapped my ass and bounded off the bed. "Come on we've got to hustle."

"Now he's worried," I stayed where I was.

"Okay, I'll shave first," Joe glared at me. "But in 15 minutes I want to see your ass in the shower."

"You always want to see my ass," I yelled at his back as he left the room. 

He flipped me the bird without turning around. I snuggled deeper under the covers. 

God, I wondered, how had I gotten here? Worrying about jackets and painters, and a mother who bossed me around like I was her own kid.

Twelve years ago, I would have laughed my ass off if someone had suggested it. No, I remembered, that wasn't true. There was a time when someone had talked to me about it and I hadn't laughed at all...



August 21, 1988

I looked around the apartment I had just moved into.  Well, I sighed, at least there was plenty of space and the price was right. 

It was the second floor of an old carriage house that was nestled in the back yard of a large Victorian. I had gotten it, amazingly enough, through my advisor, Dr. Cline. He'd heard me bitching one day to a friend about my impending homelessness and had stopped his journey to whatever meeting he was on his way to and gave me the address of a friend who had a place that might work for me. 

After I picked my jaw off the floor--I'd never thought the guy even liked me--I thanked him profusely and scurried my ass to the nearest pay phone. There I made an appointment with my prospective landlady for the next day.

Joe and I had kept our bargain to be more open and include each other in our daily lives, but I had remained adamant on refusing to live with him in that apartment. It was no longer about mine or his privacy you understand, I just wasn't going to live anywhere where I couldn't pay my fair share. I was only half kidding when I told him it made me feel cheap.

He reluctantly agreed and I was careful to exclude him from any of my further forays into the housing market. He really did love the frat house and I would have felt guilty about robbing him of his last year there to room with me. So I didn't tell him about my hot lead until after I'd signed the lease. But by that time, I had quite a story to tell.

Her name was Lucy Cummings Galway and she had always lived in the house on Oak Street. She'd been born there in fact, and fully had every intention of dying there though not soon, unless those ham-handed medics killed her with all the medicine they were always trying to get her to take.

She told me this at the door. I was to learn that Lucy usually said everything that came into her head as soon as it got there. She said it was one of the perks of old age but I thought she'd been doing it a lot longer than she'd been in AARP.

I never could figure out how old she was, anywhere from 50 to 80 was my guess. She wasn't about to tell. She didn't believe in ages and said that knowing how old a person was limited your ability to judge them on their own merits.

She was tiny, barely five feet tall in her sneakers, and she dressed in pants and sweater sets ala Katherine Hepburn. She had that kind of voice too, clear and harsh and classy. She had an ageless beauty, and she knew it, though she did nothing to capitalize on it. It was that deep, under the skin, beauty that only happens with the right alignment of bones. She could look down her nose at someone like nobody's business; but she saved it for phonies and those with money, but not much else.

She took me into the parlor and sat me down on a horsehair sofa then chose the only comfortable chair in the room for herself. After giving me a cup of tea, in china so thin I was afraid I'd crush it, she gave me a long stare.

"You're the gay boy Richard sent over to keep me company."

My tea splashed over the edge of my cup and on to my leg. Lucy calmly handed me a napkin and went on while I mopped up.

"He thinks you'll be quieter because you're a swish." She shook her head in exasperation. "He's a fool, but he means well."

I stared at her. I mean, how was I supposed to reply to that?

"Come on." She stood abruptly. "If you're still interested in seeing the apartment that is."

Then she turned and stalked off without bothering to look to see if I was following. I had to hurry to catch up. We passed a wall of family portraits and stopped.

"My mother." She pointed at a delicate beauty in white lace. "Gorgeous, but the most complete ninny. Only read Vogue."

She pointed again to a stern man. "My father." She raised her eyebrows. "Now he was brilliant. He was the Dean at the law school, did you know that?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Yes, he was academically superb but an utter asshole when it came to dealing with people."

I choked back my laughter but she noticed. There wasn't much, I was to find out later, that Lucy missed.

"Go ahead and laugh, he was a ridiculous figure."

"Oh no, I..."

Lucy ignored my stuttering protests. She waved a hand at the wall.
"The rest of these are my brothers and sisters. There were nine of us you know. Most of them are dead or moved away now, thank God."

She saw the shock on my face and gave me a wicked grin. "We were never what you'd call close."

She turned back to the wall and stroked a picture of a young man with laughing eyes. "Except for Brian, my youngest brother. I was the baby and he was one up from me. We were a team, he and I, always different from the rest of them."

"He's handsome." I finally managed to say something.

Lucy laughed and looked sideways at me. "Yes he was," she tilted her head. "He'd have liked you too. He was your kind, you know. A pouf, as our dear father used to say."

"He's dead I take it?" I had decided that bluntness was the course to take with this remarkable woman. From the look of approval on her face it appeared I was right.

"He died young. They say only the good die young. That was certainly the case with Brian. The only consolation I have is that it means that I shall live a long, long time."

This time I did laugh out loud and she grinned back at me, pleased. Then, in a quick birdlike gesture I was to get to know very well, she sprinted down the hall.

"Come on," she called back to me. "I haven't got all day."

We climbed the stairs on the outside of the carriage house and Lucy produced a key and unlocked the door. I stepped inside.

It was really only one huge room and it was filthy with dust and cobwebs, but it had possibilities. There was a kitchen area along one wall with a window over the sink that overlooked the big house and the tangled garden between. A bathroom of incredible antiquity occupied one corner and there was a light switch that I assumed worked the unfortunate choice of chandelier in the middle of the room. A couple of outlets completed the modern amenities.

I barely noticed. The thing that caught my attention was the wall overlooking the alley. It was all windows. Not sliding doors or some big bland picture window but small panes with leading in between. They were old and wavy and even now with so much dirt on them you couldn't see out, the light was incredible. The rest of the walls were plaster with exposed brick on one and the floors were plank. I knew right away I'd found the place I wanted to live in.

"Nobody's lived here for 10 years," Lucy said by way of apology for the dirt. "Not since that girl writer whom I thought might become the next Katherine Ann Porter."

She wrinkled her nose in disgust and it wasn't over the state of the apartment. "I was mistaken."

"How much?" I said hoarsely.

I had to have this place, but I knew all too well how much it would go for with a little elbow grease and a new coat of paint for the cabinets.

"Two hundred."

"What?" I thought I was hearing things.

"Too much? Okay then one fifty, but not a penny less and you have 
to mow the lawn."

"Ms Galway..."

"Call me Lucy since we're going to be neighbors."

"Okay Lucy, I feel I have to tell you that you can get a lot more for this place if you fix it up. God, even if you don't, it's worth three times your first offer."

"Oh I know that," She waived a hand dismissively. "You think I need the money? I'm sorry to disappoint you dear, but I don't. I hadn't thought of this place in years until Richard called me about you. Even then I only agreed to see you because he thought he was doing me a favor. To be truthful, I never had any intention of offering you the apartment. I was going to see you, let you down gently and call Richard and tell him to mind his own damn business."

"But you have offered me the apartment. Why?"

She shrugged and tilted her head up to meet my eyes. "I like your face. You have, knowing eyes. And I need a new lawn man, the last one sucked."

So, as I told Joe later that evening, I signed a one year lease and we celebrated with Irish whiskey and Japanese seaweed crackers. I couldn't however, let her get away with giving me such cheap rent. We haggled and eventually reached an agreement that seemed to please Lucy as well as me. And I would clean up the garden, as well as mow the lawn.

"Jesus, Mike," Joe laughed as I finished my story. "How're you going to be a lawyer if you can't even screw one old lady out of a little rent money?"

"Fuck you," I said with no rancor.

"In your dreams."

"You wish."

It was amazing how far we'd come in a few weeks. Things I'd never have believed I'd say to Joe rolled off my tongue as if I'd never held them back.

"Wait 'til you meet her," I returned to the topic of Lucy. "You'll go nuts over her."

"Sounds like it. Too bad it's going to have to wait."

I nodded. This was Joe's last night in town. Tomorrow he was heading back to Chicago to take a job as an orderly at Cook County Memorial. He had gotten the AIDS research job he'd coveted our freshman year, and for the last two summers he'd stayed in Ann Arbor to work as a lab rat. But funding had dried up as it has a way of doing, so he was going home for the last summer before he graduated.

I would be leaving by the end of the week too. I could have stayed; my job at the law firm was always there. But I could save more money working in Pennsylvania and sponging off my parents, so I was heading in the opposite direction from Joe to do my yearly stint as a slave at Hershey Park. It would be almost three months until we'd see each other again and I don't think either of us were very happy about it.

But the time passed as it has a habit of doing and now I was standing in my brand new apartment and wondering what the fuck I had gotten myself into. 

Lucy had been busy that summer. She'd had the place cleaned and she'd put in a new apartment sized stove and refrigerator. She'd even gotten somebody to slap a coat of paint on the cupboards.

A friend who was graduating had willed me his beat up furniture. Now I had a couch, table and chairs and a bedroom set plus some other little goodies like knifes and spoons and a bent up set of pots and pans that looked like their surface had been scored by a fork and left little gray flakes of Teflon in everything you cooked. 

My mom had made up most of the rest in one horrendous shopping trip to the Big K that she insisted I take with her. We bought sheets and towels and a cute little plastic plaque that said Bless This Apartment and made me want to throw up every time I looked at it.

My grandma had given me her extra set of dishes, which she said she was going to throw away if I didn't take them. That statement tells a lot about the way they looked. And my Aunt Livia, or Aunt Livid as the family called her behind her back because of her nasty personality, had amazed me with a silk flower arrangement. 

Seeing my pleasure, she'd promptly told me she got it because it was the sort of thing my kind seemed to like. That bitch had earned her nickname.

Now all my new toys were piled up in the middle of the room waiting for me to find them a home. The place was shaping up nicely. Except for one problem and it was a lulu.

The place was hot. I don't mean warm. I don't mean uncomfortable. I mean hot; Amazon rain forest hot. I expected kudzu to sprout through the floorboards and start creeping up my legs at any moment.

In my obsession with the damn windows, you might have thought I'd notice their purely decorative purpose. Not one of the little puppies was made to open. Instead, they radiated heat, magnifying the 80 degree weather outside to a bone melting 98 inside. 

There was no cross ventilation to help alleviate this either. The only windows that opened in the whole place were the one over the kitchen sink and the tiny one in the bathroom and they were both on the same wall. There was some kind of a hatch in the ceiling that had probably opened to let out the heat, but a new roof had put that out of commission. 

I stood there with sweat dripping off my fingertips and considered my future. Ann Arbor may have been in Michigan, a northern state, but it was in the southern end and the heat of summer could and often did last well into October.

If I bought some fans, okay, a lot of fans, I could probably manage to sleep there as long as the weather cooperated and the nights cooled off. But how was I going to actually live and work inside this blast furnace?

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a stampede charging up the stairs. I deduced that Joe had arrived. Seconds later he flung the door open.

"Dude! Hey it's great to see you... Holy shit!" He stepped back involuntarily as a wall of heat attacked him. "Damn! Open the windows quick, it's fucking hot in here!"

"It is open," I pointed glumly to the lone window over the sink. It wasn't even double-hung; it cranked out from the bottom and the opening stuck at about six inches. 

Joe took a deep breath and stepped into the room. He stared at the wall of light. "What about these? Oh man, they don't open."

It had taken him 30 seconds to see what I had just become aware of. Maybe I should have brought him with me when I first looked at the place.

"Well, you'll get used to it," he said helpfully. "What's the temperature anyway?"

"98 degrees," I answered hopelessly.

"Hmmm, feels hotter."

"That makes me feel better."

"You know," he said looking around again. "It's not too bad a place, if it wasn't for the danger of heat prostration and all."

"You're not very funny."

"Sorry, I thought I was."

We were both silent for a while. Joe walked back over to the door. 

"Wish I could stay, but I just dropped in to say hi."

"Yeah right, coward."

"No really, I've got to meet some of the guys. You're welcome to come."

I shook my head. The only place I was planning on going was a store with a sale on fans. I almost wished now that I hadn't been so honorable in my dealings with Lucy. With a little less rent, I might have squeezed my budget enough to afford a small air conditioner. I wouldn't have been able to get a big one but even a little one would be better than nothing.

"Hey Mike."

I'd forgotten Joe was still there. Funny, he'd been the one person I was most looking forward to seeing and I hadn't even said hi yet.

"It'll all work out buddy," he continued softly. Then he grinned. "Just drink Gator Aid, lots and lots of Gator Aid."

I'd have flipped him the bird, but I was too hot to make the effort.

"Later," he ducked out the door.

I eventually forced myself to move and half heartedly tackled a couple of the boxes, but halfway through the third one I was soaked and my eyes were going blind from the sweat that was running off my forehead.

I gave up and took a cold shower. That helped for just about as long as took to get redressed. I had to get out of that apartment. 

The mall was always cool and it was for that fact almost as much as the necessity for fans that I decided to make it my destination. I was just getting into my car when Lucy came out of the house and beckoned me over.

"I've made up a spare room for you for the night," she said with no preamble.




The Human Condition Ch. 04



"Thanks, but it's not necessary."

"Of course it is. You can't be expected to put up with that heat," she shook her head. "I'd forgotten about the ceiling window when I had the new roof done. Oh well, it can't be helped now. Get your clothes and come over to the house."

She darted away. A lifetime of giving orders had convinced her that I wouldn't say no. I wasn't so sure how happy she'd be when I told her she was wrong.

"Lucy, wait," I caught up to her. "I appreciate the offer, I really do, but I'm going to have to refuse it."

"Your very pig headed. Normally that's a trait I admire, but not when it's taken to extremes."

I grinned. "Better not look in the mirror then."

She was about to retort when a beat up old panel van pulled up in the driveway. The passenger door slid open and Joe jumped out. A tall guy with sandy blonde hair and a wicked grin followed close behind him. I'd met him before. Beauchamp "Beau" Maxwell star receiver for the Wolverines was from Alabama. It was said that his daddy didn't stay around long enough for his momma to get his last name and that Beau didn't get his first pair of shoes until he started school.

I had no idea if any of that was true. I did know that, myth or not, Beau liked to perpetuate the stories of his white trash origins. But for all his good ole boy posturing, there was intelligence in his eyes and gentleness in his manner that revealed his true character to me. I had met him the year before, when he was a freshman, and he had been the only one of Joe's teammates who I'd gotten past the hi, how's it going stage.

"Hey Ross. How's it hanging man?" He didn't wait for my answer but turned and slid the back panel of the truck open. 

It was dark and I couldn't see into it because of the glare of the sun but I did detect motion. A mountain appeared at the doorway and I blinked.

It was Abdul Marsh, all nine feet, 800 pounds of him. Okay, so maybe I'm exaggerating, but trust me; that's how big he looked. He was a center for the team and I had only met him once before.

"Mike," he said to me in his disconcertingly high voice, "good to see you man." He stood there in the doorway of the van squinting and didn't seem to be in any hurry to get out until a voice from inside started to whine.

"For fucks sake, would you move your fat black ass. I can't breathe in here!"

Abdul complied in Jabba the Hut movements and Ronny Gould jumped lightly out behind him. Ronny was not a member of the football team though he was an athlete with every bit as big a fan club as our beloved Wolverines.

He was a gymnast and his team bronze and individual silver at the last World Games along with his Opie cute looks and smart assed mouth had made him a media darling. He was maybe 5'7" tall and standing next to Abdul should have made him look insignificant, but it didn't. Not by a long shot.

"Just because I'm small doesn't mean I don't need some room. Christ, Ab, you had your ass stuck so far into my face I thought you wanted a rim job!"

I cleared my throat, Lucy was still standing next to me and although I realized there was no heat to Ronny's complaints, I wasn't sure how she'd react. Joe saw my concern and stepped to the rescue.

"You must be Ms. Galway," he walked over to her and stretched out his hand. "I'm Joe Lassiter and these ill mannered jerks are unfortunately my friends."

The rest of them immediately realized that they were in polite company and started to fall all over themselves to make amends. Lucy looked at each one grimly until they finally fell silent their eyes downcast, looking more like little boys than the stars they were. Ronny was even kicking the dirt in front of him with the toe of his sneaker. 

This impasse might have gone on forever if Beau hadn't screwed up his courage and stepped forward. "Ma'am," he said in a Southern accent that dripped with honey. "Ma name is Beauchamp Maxwell and I would like to apologize for our appallin' behavior here today." Then he took her tiny hand in his and raised it to his lips and kissed it.

I sucked in a breath and held it waiting for the inevitable blast of put downs I was sure were going to come out of Lucy's mouth. Instead, I watched with astonishment as a slow smile appeared on her face.

"Oh," she laughed and shook her head. "You're good. I'll bet you could talk a nun out of her habit."

Beau had the grace to blush and the wits to follow up with his very charming smile. The rest of us just breathed again.

"Okay," Lucy continued. "You're all forgiven this time."

Thank you Ms Galway's were heard from every mouth including my own.

"And call me Lucy, I have no desire to be treated like a librarian."

That seemed to break the spell. One by one the others introduced themselves to Lucy. After he'd done his duty, Ronny ran up the steps to my apartment and opened the door I'd forgotten to lock. He stuck his head in, then quickly retracted it.

"Goddamn, you were right Lassiter, it's hot enough in there to melt your dic..." He stopped and looked sheepishly at Lucy. "Sorry."

Lucy looked at the heavens, but I could tell that she'd decided that she would be amused rather than insulted by the vulgarity that Ronny couldn't seem to stop coming out of his mouth.

"Lord give me strength," she said, then changed the subject abruptly.

"Who wants lemonade?"

As usual she didn't wait for an answer but set off to the house to get the refreshments.

"What are you guys doing here?" I said when she'd finally disappeared through her back door.

"Gotta a housewarming gift," Joe grinned. "Jamal will you do the honors?"

"I guess," he groused. "Shoulda known the only reason I was let in on this honky gathering was to do the heavy lifting."

But there was no rancor to his words and he turned back to the van and stuck the top of his enormous body into the back. When he reappeared he had a huge box clasped to his chest.

"Up those stairs?" He looked at Joe for direction who nodded in agreement. 

I watched in fascination as the big guy lumbered up the steps and winced as a couple of the boards screamed in protest from his weight. Luckily they held and we all followed him up to the hell on earth that was now my home.

Abdul set the box down in the middle of the room and I went over to examine it. It was already opened, so at first I didn't dare hope that what was inside was really what the writing on the outside said it was. But when I looked at the contents I realized that miracles occasionally do come true.

It was an air conditioner. It was the biggest fucking air conditioner I had ever seen. The box said it could cool a whole house and looking at the thing, I had no doubts as to the truth of that statement. I turned and looked at Joe who was watching me with some trepidation.

"Look," he said in a rush. "I know you hate anything you think of as charity but that isn't the deal here. The way I see it is I'm saving my life and anybody else's who's stupid enough to want to visit you."

I thought about making him sweat but then I realized that, like the rest of us, he already was. He was right, under normal circumstances I might have protested such an expensive gift, but this time I decided to just accept the offer.

"Shut up, asshole," I said in my most gracious manner. "I think it's great."

He grinned and I realized how worried he'd actually been that I'd refuse his largess. That bothered me a little but I decided to think about it later.

"So let's get this mother set up so we can cool this fucking place off," Ronny whined.

It was then that it dawned on me that there was no place where we could put it. As I mentioned before, the windows were small. There was no way that monster was going to fit in either of them. My breath came out in a whoosh of disappointment. It looked like my reprieve from Hell was not to be after all. 

Lucy came through the door with a tray of lemonade. She stopped and looked at the box we were all staring at.

"Mr. Maxwell," she spoke briskly. "Come with me and I'll show you where the chain saw is kept."

We all looked at her completely clueless as to what she was talking about. 

"Well you'll need something to cut a hole in the wall, won't you?" She turned and sped out of the room with Beau trailing dutifully behind her.

"I love that woman." Joe said. "I wonder if she'd be willing to bear my children?"

The next couple of hours were not fun. Well yeah, maybe they were in a kind of perverse, sado-masochistic sense. We sweated and swore and hammered and sweated some more and somehow through it all I gained three new friends along with a cooling unit that turned my little hot box of an apartment into a refrigeration unit that could keep ice from melting.

After it was done Ronny, Abdul and Beau said they had to split; the van was from the store that Beau worked at part time and they had to return it. Joe decided to stay awhile and help me unpack so the two of us said our good-byes to the others and started to really move me in.

"Hey," I said after about ten minutes of shoving everything into the kitchen cupboards. "What did Abdul mean about seeing me on Friday?"

"Didn't I tell you?" Joe's voice was casual, too casual, and my spine stiffened suspiciously. 

"Didn't you tell me what?"

"Nothing really, just that I told the guys that you'd thank them for their help by having a poker party here on Friday." 

"Nice of you to ask me first." I said it sarcastically but I shouldn't have wasted my breath.

"Knew you wouldn't mind."

"Wait," I remembered something. "This Friday?"

Joe nodded. "Has to be, next week starts the pre-season."

"I can't do it this Friday," I protested.

"Why not?"

"Saul and Kevin are coming over."

Joe shrugged. "So, don't they play cards?"

"It's just that it would mean there would be seven of us. That's too many for a good game."

"Aw bullshit. You know how these things go, half the time nobody ever shuffles a deck. It's really just a chance to drink some brews and shoot shit. It'll be fine."

"Joe..."

He lifted a hand to stop me. "It'll be cool Mike, trust me."

I shrugged my shoulders and let the subject drop. Maybe he was right. At any rate, I'd promised myself that this year I was going to try and be more of a friend to Joe. Apparently he believed that should include mixing our two worlds. I was just going to have to go along with it and hope for the best.

Joe stayed for a couple more hours to catch up on the summer and eat most of the pizza I ordered in. He had finally broken up with Missy when she'd given him an ultimatum, a ring or the door. 

He said he'd made the right decision but still it had made him think about the possibility of settling down. He knew Missy wasn't the right girl, but he figured that pretty soon somebody would turn up who would make a trip down the aisle seem like a great idea. Even the thought of it made me nauseous.

I was still thinking about it after he'd left and I was finally getting ready to go to bed for the first time in my own apartment. I'd been over Joe for a long time, but still, the idea of him with a wife and that kind of commitment to another person made me a little jealous. I was the one he came to with all his personal baggage. I didn't know how I'd handle it if I slipped into the number two position.

Christ, even writing it makes me feel like a selfish bastard. But I've seen a lot of friendships, both gay and straight, that haven't been able to stand up under the stress of one of the friends finding a life partner. I didn't want our relationship to end up the same way.

Oh, I knew that eventually he'd find somebody to share his life. I just wished it'd be later not sooner. But we were all getting older and this was probably our final year together anyway, I was just going to have to accept that.

The next day, I was back at work at the law firm I'd been working at for the last year. Yeah, yeah, I know, if I'd been working there how come it'd taken me so long to figure out that I wanted to be a lawyer? I can't really answer that except to say that what I did there was so far removed from the legal profession that I rarely even saw a lawyer. 

See, I worked as a data processor for them. I entered the billable hours into their accounting system. It was boring as hell, taking stacks of papers and transcribing them into the computer (this was before they'd upgraded to a lot more amenable system), but I could pretty much set my own hours, and the pay was great by college standards. At least, it got me away from paper hats and flipping burgers, which is what I had been doing before I landed this job.

When I returned to school for the fall semester, I'd expected to take up where I'd left off but when I got to my office there was a note asking me to go to Personnel and see a Ms Grey. Uh oh, I thought, they're going to tell me they don't need me anymore. I went to the office already half resigned to resuming my stellar, no-growth career in the fast food industry. 

Instead, when I got to Ms Grey's office, I was informed that a part time job had opened up in the research department, sort of an assistant's assistant. Since I was now planning on making the law my career, it was thought that I might be interested.

I was, very. Not only would it get me out of the basement where my lonely cubicle was located, but I would also get to do something I might actually like. It wouldn't hurt my chances of getting into graduate school either.

There were five stories in our office. Each rise in elevation also included a raise in status. I was shown to a new desk on the 2nd floor, a huge step up from my former dungeon. I had my own PC and I was across the hall from the law library the firm maintained.

A young black woman with Whoopi Goldberg dreads and a very pretty smile was told to show me around. Her name was Penelope Washington, but she told me to call her Pen. She was a senior research assistant and already in her first year of law school, though I found out later she was younger than me. Pen wasn't smart; she was brilliant.
She showed me through the stacks and told me which lawyers were approachable, and more importantly, which were not. After an hour, we were calling each other girlfriend and I was sure that with her help and friendship, I was going to like this job just fine.

A few times during the morning, we ran across some of the legal eagles that walked those hallowed halls. Pen would smirk and simper and invisibly pull on her forelock like a good little serf, and I'd follow her lead. The Suits themselves, would barely acknowledge us. After a while I started to get a little pissed.

"Are they all like that?" I said after one of powers that be had brushed past us with barely a nod.

"Nah," Pen shook her head. "There's 83 lawyers in this firm; some of them are bound to be actual human beings."

"Oh yeah?" I wasn't sure I believed her. "Show me one."

"There," she pointed. "Exhibit A. Culvert Atchison Montgomery IV. Bad name, but good people."

She rambled on, but I wasn't paying attention anymore. I was too busy gawking at the God standing in front of me.

Culvert Atchison Montgomery IV was all my wet dreams rolled into one. As tall, or maybe a little bit taller than me, he was bronzed and fit with a Kennedy smile and Paul Neuman eyes. He couldn't have been much past 30, and his hair was dark honey with streaks of gold that looked natural. His face, was all hard planes and handsome as Hell even with, or maybe because of, the slight flattening bend in his nose that told me it had been broken at least once.

It had been a while since I'd had a bed partner. Rick, the guy I'd been seeing in the spring, had graduated and moved to Atlanta. My hometown had never been a hotbed of homosexual activity and traveling to one of the more cosmopolitan areas in Pennsylvania had seemed like too much effort for a summer fling. I knew I'd be coming back to Ann Arbor, so it'd been just me, and my hand, for longer than I cared to admit. Now, just one look at the lawyer Adonis in front of me told me it was way past time to go looking for somebody new.

He noticed us at about the same moment my jaw dropped open. He came over to us with a big smile on his face that showed 32 white teeth that must have cost a fortune in orthodontia.

"Hey Pen," he said in a bone-melting bass. "How are you?"

"Fine Cam," she answered with a grin. "Just showing the new slave how to pick cotton."

"Hi," his baby blues turned to me and my knees got weak. "I'm Cam Montgomery, one of the partners."

I managed, just, to shut my mouth, and took his hand as he offered it. My cock twitched at his touch and I could feel a flush of arousal spreading across my chest. I looked down and realized where I was staring. I quickly looked up again and saw amusement on his face. Oh God, I could feel the red spreading to my cheeks only it was embarrassment that was causing it now.

I stuttered out my name and we talked for a few more minutes but I couldn't begin to tell you what we said. Eventually he left and when I could breathe again, I noticed that Pen was looking at me with a big shit eating grin on her face.

"Liked that did you?" She asked.

"Oh yeah," I grinned back. There was no point in denying it; the girl wasn't blind. 

There was also no point in pursuing it. Not only was the guy sort of my boss, he also had a big gold ring on the third finger of his left hand that told me he was probably unavailable. I was also pretty sure he was straight, even if my obvious attraction to him had seemed to amuse rather than offend him. 

"Girlfriend, you are not alone," Pen told me. "I don't think there's a gay man or straight woman in this building who hasn't wondered what that guy would be like between the sheets. Even the straight guys fawn all over him, wanting to be his best buddy and all. If he wasn't so nice, I could really get to hate him."

"Everybody's hot for him, Eh? That include you?"

Pen grinned again. "Didn't I say gay men and straight women?"

It took me a minute to realize what she meant. "You're gay?" I finally asked stupidly.

"Same as you, sweet pea, only with a different focus, if you get my drift." She grabbed my arm and pulled me down the hall in the direction of the elevator. "But I can see the attraction." She admitted.

"Well I guess that's all anybody's going to get anyways."

"Come again?"

"He's married. I saw the wedding band."

Pen shrugged. "I don't know much about his personal life. He only transferred here from the big office in Chicago about two months ago. He might be married, probably is, most of the partners are. I know that so far he's not been a player, at least not in the office. Many offers have been made, none have been accepted."

I realized suddenly that we were outside. "Hey, where are we going?"

"To lunch, then the law library at the U." She turned and poked me playfully in the stomach. "Then if you're real nice, I'll take you back and give you another peak at Mr. Gorgeous."

I laughed and we changed the subject to our favorite lunch hangouts. But in the back of my mind was the image of Cam. He may have been out of bounds, but he sure was fun to look at.

But I didn't get a glimpse of the eye candy again that day or for the rest of the week for that matter. Instead, I settled into the new routine and found that I really loved my new job with or without the attractive Mr. Montgomery. Maybe, I thought, this lawyer thing was going to work out. 

Before I knew it, Friday rolled around. I had shoved the prospect of the poker party to the back of my mind. Now it was the big night and the reservations I had about hosting the event came back with a vengeance.

Part of it was just the nerves that came from having a party of any kind; this was the first one I had ever given on my own. But a lot of it was because of those same old feelings about being gay and not fitting in to the so called normal world. Would the very mixed group that was coming tonight work?




The Human Condition Ch. 04



Fortunately, my schedule was so tight that I didn't have too much time to stew about it. I got off work at six, ran to the store and then slammed home to hide my dirty underwear and throw the breakfast dishes into a pan in the cupboard under the sink. 

Satisfied that the place was looking as good as it needed to for a bunch of college aged guys, I hopped into the shower. When I got out, Joe was already there. He was pouring chips into a bowl and had iced down a tub and loaded it with the cheapest beer that money could buy.

"How'd you get in?"

"Lucy gave me a key."

"How thoughtful of her." I said with an edge to my voice though I knew by then that Joe was impervious to it.

"Yeah," he nodded absently. "She's really great."

I sighed and gave up and got dressed while Joe shoved my furniture around and pulled my table and chairs to the center of the room. We had both just finished when we heard the wooden steps give a groan of pure agony as their strength was tested to the limit. It was clear that Abdul had arrived.

"Hey Ab," we both said without looking as he knocked and then walked in.

"Hi Ross, Joe, how'd you guys know it was me?"

"Psychic," I grinned and Joe rolled his eyes.

"Cool."

"Aw Jesus H. Christ, Ab!" Ronny Gould had been hidden behind the human monolith but now he stepped around his friend and roommate and nodded hello to us. "They'd have to be in a fucking coma to miss you coming up those stairs. Shit, it's a miracle everytime you make it up here without breaking your goddamn neck."

Ab ignored him, as always. I was beginning to realize that anytime you time you saw one you were sure to see the other. It had to be one of the strangest friendships I'd ever run across. First, there were the physical disparities. Not just their size difference, which was well over a foot, but also you had to take into account the difference in their looks.

Abdul was black, and I don't mean just ethnically, I mean literally, he was black. When we'd been working to put in the air conditioner he'd taken his shirt off and the sight of that ebony skin had been just awesome. There had been not a variation, no patches of lighter or mottled skin, no blemishes or scars to break it up, it was all just black, a lot of black, I had never seen a chest that big.

Ronny on the other hand, was simply the whitest boy I knew. He had bright red hair and that clear milky complexion that usually went with it. It didn't help that almost all of his time was spent indoors in a gym. Even his eyes were colorless, a clear light gray. Except for the hair on his head, and I'm assuming in other places, the only color on his body came from the billion or so freckles he had covering every square inch of his skin.

You might think from this description that these two were the opposites ends of ugly but that wasn't the case at all. In there own unique ways, they were very appealing, and neither of them had any problem finding any number of ladies who agreed with that assessment.

They had been roommates now for three years. I can only think that whoever had decided to put them together had a very bizarre sense of humor. But if so, they'd been doomed to disappointment. 

Although I hadn't known either of them for very long, Joe told me that they'd been friends from the minute they'd met. Nobody could explain it. By rights they should have hated each other.

See, Ronnie was a Jew, though not a very devout one. He told me later that the main reason he'd agreed to a Bar Mitzvah was it was the only way his parents were going to cough up the Atari he'd been whining for. To this day, I think his favorite meal is Virginia ham, AuGratin Potatoes, Green Beans cooked in bacon grease and pecan pie for dessert.

Abdul was a very, very devout Muslim. He didn't drink, never swore and except on the football field, he never showed an ounce of temper that I'd ever heard of.

Ronnie on the other hand, flew off the handle at a moments notice, cursed better and with more originality than anyone else I have ever met and drank like a fish except when he was in training. 

Like I said, theirs was an unbelievably odd friendship, at least on the surface. But then, who was I to talk? I was an openly gay guy whose best friend hadn't gone a week without a girl since he'd been fourteen. 

I pointed at the tub of beer, which Ronnie took as an invitation, and gave Abdul a glass of the tart lemonade that I'd conned Lucy into making for the party. I figured Ab would like that since he'd drunk about a gallon of it when we'd been putting in the air conditioner. It appeared I was right. He swallowed the whole glass and I wondered what Miss Manners would say if I just gave him the whole big plastic pitcher and a straw.

"So," Joe said, "you guys know where Beau is?"

"Work, he'll be here later." Ronnie said and looked around as he sat down. "Hot damn Ross, this place is the shit."

I grinned and started to thank him when there was a knock at the door. It was Saul and Kevin. At least, I was sure it was Saul in his signature Ralph Lauren duds. The guy next to him could have been Kevin or he could have been a refugee from the Rocky Horror Picture Show. I stared, my mouth dropped in shock. 

It was Kevin all right, dressed in a black leather bustier, purple tube skirt, fishnet stockings and six inch spikes that had BITCH spelled out in rhinestones on the heels. And trust me, he did not have the legs for this outfit.

I finally forced myself to look up. Did I forget to mention that Kevin stood about 6'5" in his stocking feet? Now with heels on, his face was just about even with my porch light. I stepped back involuntarily. He was wearing more makeup than a Las Vegas showgirl. I was pretty sure I was going to have nightmares that featured his lipsticked mouth. But the Shirley Temple wig was a nice touch, though I thought the tiara might be a tad too much for a college poker party.

"Aren't you going to let us in?" Kevin said in a whispy, tragic parody of Marilyn's baby doll voice.

"I don't think so," I spoke involuntarily.

He laughed and pushed past me and the noise in the room behind me died except for one loud "Fuck me!" from Ronnie. Saul looked at me with real misery in his eyes and shrugged.

"I couldn't talk him out of it," he whispered apologetically. "He kept saying they wanna see gay, I'll give 'em gay." He grimaced. "He gets a little outrageous when he's nervous."

A little outrageous? I couldn't think of anything to say so I stepped aside and motioned Saul into the room. Then I braced myself to turn and see what was happening with my guests.

It was not a Kodak moment. Abdul was staring at his hands like he'd just noticed them for the first time in his life. Ronnie, for once, was speechless, and even Joe didn't seem to be able to blow this off.

Kevin stood in the middle of the room with one hand on his hip still playing the part of a transvestite whore. But there was an air of panic surrounding him as he realized that nobody thought his little stunt was as funny as he'd hoped. Finally I cleared my throat. It sounded like a gunshot in the dead silent room.

"Uh, guys." I squeaked. "Let me make some introductions. Saul this is Ronnie, Abdul and you know Joe." Everyone nodded like robots. "And guys, this is Kevin."

"Well I didn't fucking think it was Princess Di." Ronnie muttered.

The door slammed open and Beau breezed in. "Hey guys, sorry I'm late but..." He stopped. "Hey Kevin is that you?"

I looked at Joe and raised my eyebrows. He shook his head to indicate that he had no idea how these two knew each other.

"Hi Beau," Kevin said in his normal voice but he was still stiff and uncomfortable.

I know he brought it on himself; I mean what the fuck had he been thinking? But still I had to feel sorry for the guy. He looked like I felt when I had that dream where you realize you're in church or school or the grocery store and you're stark naked... 

You know the one.

Beau stared at him for a minute and then walked over and circled him, looking at him critically. We all watched, waiting for what was going to happen next. Finally he stopped in front of our own Madonna wannabe and looked at him seriously.

"Not bad, but you might want to rethink the jewelry." He reached over and took Kevin's hand and removed the small, gold signet ring he always wore. "There, that's better."

We all burst out laughing. The tension that had been palpable in the room just moments ago was gone.

"Oh fuck!" Kevin said flopping into a chair and kicking off his pumps. "My feet are killing me."

"It serves you right, asshole," I said calmly.

"You should have seen the look on your face," he laughed.

"Yeah, well you should have seen the look on yours when it didn't look like anybody got the joke," I retorted.

"So," Abdul said seriously. "You don't really dress this way normally."

Kevin just stared at him and I howled till the tears ran down my cheeks. Saul slipped out the door but returned a few minutes later with some jeans and a tee shirt for his lover. We all protested when he went into the bathroom to change, then laughed again when he came out. 

"I can't get this fucking pancake shit off my face!" He protested. "Don't you have any lotion or anything?"

I thought of the assortment of lubes in my nightstand and my eyes involuntarily strayed to that location. Kevin and Saul saw me, but the expression on my face told them not to push it. They knew as well as I did, that being camp was one thing, but reminding straight boys about the realities of gay sex was quite another. Kevin went back in the bathroom and wiped off what he could of his happy hooker face and learned to live with the rest.

But then the most amazing thing happened. It turned into a really great night. Beau told us that Kevin had been a TA in his Psych course last year and that's how they knew each other. Saul started talking to Ronnie about gymnastics. He'd been on a team in high school but quit when he developed chronic tendonitis in his left elbow that wouldn't respond to any treatment.

Abdul wanted to know all about working at Hershey. Seemed the boy loved chocolate and he thought a job in a town that smelled like candy just had to be heaven.

And Joe? Well, he just moved from group to group talking, laughing, acting like he was the host. Which in a way since he'd set the whole thing up, I guess he was.

Eventually the beer was gone along with the eight pizzas we'd ordered at midnight and all of Lucy's lemonade. Joe had been right; we never did get around to playing cards.

"Let's do this again." Abdul said as I walked everybody to their cars.

"Sure." I agreed.

"When?"

I thought about it. Next Friday was out because it was the day before preseason started. In fact from now on in the fall the weekends would be taken over with football.

"How about a week from Tuesday?" I finally offered.

Everybody agreed and that was that. The Tuesday game was born. None of us realized how important a decision this was going to prove.

After they left, I went back up to my apartment. I stopped surprised, at the door. All the mess was gone. The only evidence was a large black trashbag sitting in the corner and Jamal's glass and lemonade pitcher in the sink. Joe had been busy. I'd left him in the apartment while I'd walked the guys out. I didn't see him now though.

"Hey, where are you?" I yelled.

"In the john taking a leak."

Can I watch? The thought came unbidden into my head. Jesus, I had to find a boyfriend. It had been years since I'd gotten over Joe, I wasn't about to start mooning over him again.

I sat down on the couch and waited for him. What the hell was taking him so long? The bathroom door opened wide and I swung my head around. I couldn't believe it, one long leg dangled out over the doorjamb, the foot attached to it was wearing a black patent leather fuck me pump. 

"Look what Kevin forgot," Joe popped his head out and grinned at me.

"They fit."

"Gee Cinderella, now you can marry the prince," I said sarcastically, then started to laugh as Joe minced out into the room his pant legs pulled up over his knees to show off the heels. 

"Holy shit!" He said as he stumbled and grabbed the nearest piece of furniture for balance. "How does anybody ever walk in these things?"

"How would I know?"

"You never tried heels?"

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly a drag queen."

Joe shrugged, and gingerly made his way to the other end of the couch. He sighed in relief as he sat and kicked off the shoes and wiggled his toes appreciatively.

"Man, I couldn't believe Kevin tonight in that get up," Joe laughed softly at the memory. "You should have seen Ab's face when he walked through the door. I thought he was going to shit himself!"

"Kevin can be a little perverse at times," I grinned back at him.

"Yeah, that's an understatement. I like him though," Joe leaned back and sighed. "What I really don't understand is how he and Saul got to be a couple. I mean, Saul seems so serious while Kevin... Well just look at tonight."

"Actually, you're off base," I disagreed mildly. "Kevin is really the more reliable of the two. He runs that program downtown, you know, for gay teenagers and he's just finished up his Masters and is going to start his Ph.D. this fall. And he's doing all this by himself.  His parents kicked him out of the house when he was 16. He's been on his own ever since. That's one of the reasons he's so effective with the kids he works with. He knows exactly what they're going through."

"Jesus."

"Saul is the one who can really be a fuck up. He's the only son of a Dermatologist up in Grosse Pointe and his mom is a typical society matron. I guess they gave him everything and he had no problem taking it. He got into drugs in high school big time. He got caught by the police for that. Did some other stuff too, just kid shit I think, but he would have gone to jail if Daddy hadn't pushed his weight around. He only got in here because his folks are big time alumni with deep pockets."

"How do you know all that?"

"I met him my freshman year and you should have seen him then, talk about a wild man. He met Kevin a couple of years ago though and he helped him work through a lot of shit. I think he's gotten past most of it now. His grades are good and he and Kevin are pretty solid."

"It's nice when couples work out."

I nodded. It was after 2 and my eyes were starting to droop. Joe's next comment made them open wide.

"I want that," he sighed. "I'm beginning to realize I want that a lot."

"You trying to tell me something here?" I joked lamely.

"Shit," he snorted. "You know what I mean. I told you last week, the whole thing with Missy started me thinking. I'm tired of the whole dating scene. I want to find somebody I really care about, that I can talk to, commit to. Not just for sex, that's the easy part, but for the emotional attachment." His voice dropped. "I want to fall in love, get married, have a family."

It should have sounded stupid and corny, but it didn't. I swallowed hard. I knew Joe, knew him better than I'd ever known anybody else in my life. He wasn't bullshitting. He did want all those things. He believed in them. And as much as I hated the thought of losing the intimacy of our friendship, I wanted him to have all of it. He was a great guy and some girl was going to get very lucky when he fell in love.

"It'll be weird though when it finally happens." He continued, talking to himself as much as me. "I mean, imagine looking at someone and thinking, this is it, for the rest of my life, this is the only one."

Now I snorted, I couldn't help it. I realized he was absolutely serious but the sentiment was so opposite of my situation that I couldn't help showing my disbelief.

"You don't believe I'm capable of that kind of commitment?" Joe said quietly, a whisper of anger in his soft voice.

"No man," I denied quickly. "That's not it. I believe that, for you, that's the way it will go. Monogamy is a wonderful thing in its place."

"Uh huh, but not, I take it, a place you want to go to yourself?"

"Well let's face it," I said. "It isn't very likely that a house in the suburbs with the little woman and our kids is gonna be in my future."

"Maybe not, but what about a loft apartment with a partner you can't wait to get home to every night."

"It's not so easy," I finally said.

"Yeah but it's been done. The need to commit is ingrained in us. You can't tell me that just because you're gay you don't want the same things that everybody else on this planet wants, a home, family, someone to warm your feet at night, someone you trust completely."

"Look Joe," I tried to explain. "Gay relationships are very different than straight ones and I'm not just talking sexually here. When you talk about commitment what you really mean is the forsaking all others bit. Personally, I don't know any gay couple that are completely monogamous."

"I think you're exaggerating, look at Saul and Kevin."

"Bad example, dude."

"How could you know that?"

I stared at him. It took him a minute, but eventually light dawned in those clear blue eyes. He flushed as understanding sank in.

"You're shitting me," he finally said. "Saul and you?"

"Kevin."

"I can't believe it."

"It was last fall. Saul was at some family do, Kev and I went out for drinks," I shrugged. "One thing led to another..."

"Does Saul know?"

Joe actually looked worried. The boy was so straight.

"He said the next time we'd better include him." I stifled the impulse to laugh at the look on Joe's face.

"Like I said," I continued. "Different rules."

We sat there in silence. Emotions played over Joe's open face, shock, disbelief, he settled for stubborn.

"I don't buy it, Mike. Sure there are lots of people who cheat, both straight and gay, but that doesn't mean it's the way it has to be."

"You're missing the point," I shook my head slowly. "It's not cheating, not like you're thinking. I don't know why it is, maybe because there's no fear of pregnancy." I grinned. "Maybe it's just that men are dogs who'll rut anything in heat if the stabilizing presence of women aren't in the mix. Whatever the reason, guys who like guys also like variety."

"And you believe that's okay?"

"I believe that's reality."

"It sounds; sad," he gave me a long measuring look that made me want to squirm and drop my eyes. I forced my face to remain expressionless and returned his stare. Joe finally sighed and leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes.

"Damn, I'm bushed," he yawned.

"You going home or you want to crash on the couch?"

"Home," he stood and stretched and walked to the door. When his hand grabbed the doorknob he stopped and still facing away from me he started to speak.

"I still think you're wrong. At least I hope you are. I think you're a great guy and I want there to be somebody out there who recognizes that. I want you to have the best that life can offer and to share it with somebody that realizes how special you are. Whether you believe it or not, you deserve that." He turned and faced me.

"I know you, Mike," his words mirroring my earlier thoughts about him. "I've told you before, I think we're a lot alike. You want what I want and you can bullshit all you want to the rest of the world, even to yourself if it makes you happy. But I know the truth."

"Joe..."

"Let me finish. Maybe you're right about what has been the norm in your world. It makes sense when you think about the closet gays have had to live in, in this society. Hiding is not conducive to relationships. But look around you Mike, things are changing, Anita Bryant and the whole fucking religious right, this God damn awful disease; people are realizing that it's time to accept others for who they are."




The Human Condition Ch. 05



I must have dozed off. The answering machine had already picked up by the time I absorbed the knowledge that the phone was ringing. The buzzer beeped and the message started.

"Hi guys," a very familiar low voice spoke out from the box. "It's me. I don't know what you two are up to that has you so busy you can't pick up... Or wait, maybe I do, but let's not go there, okay?"

I laughed softly to myself. 

"Anyway, I called to let you know we're going to be a little late. Don't roll your eyes, Joe, you only have to take care of yourselves this weekend. We've got all the kids, plus a couple extra I've never seen before, and both dogs, which are almost more work. Grandma has her yoga class until 9:30, so she can't come over and scare the hell out of them like she normally does either. And to top it off, my darling wife is in the bathroom with morning sickness even though I told her she can't be because she's in her third trimester, which probably wasn't the wisest thing to say..."

I reached for the phone but stopped when I heard Joe leave the bathroom and pick up the hall receiver. He strolled into the bedroom with his hand on the cordless. Half his face was shaved and he still had bed hair and I almost jumped him--he looked so gorgeous.

"Sure, sure," he was saying into the receiver, "let me talk to her." 

He winked at me and motioned for me to pick up the phone. I shook my head lazily and he shrugged.

"Hey, sweetheart, how's it going?" He frowned and I sat up. "Your stomach hurts?" He listened and the worry was replaced by amusement. "Even though you know that can't happen in the third trimester."

I rolled my eyes and flopped back down on the bed.

"Well, why don't you try eating some ice cream to settle your stomach?"

"Joe!" I said exasperated. "Is that your idea of sound medical advice?"

He stuck his tongue out at me and walked back into the hall. A few minutes later I heard him hang up. He came back in the room and lay down on the bed.

"Reprieve," he said staring at the ceiling. "They'll be about 45 minutes late, which translates to an hour, hour and half minimum."

"Is she really sick?" I remembered my earlier concern and wanted to make sure I was right to let it go. "I mean we could cancel..."

"She's not sick. You worry too much."

"Oh and you don't."

Joe turned his head and smiled at me. "It's good for her to get out, experience a change of scene."

I snorted. "Watch it. You're beginning to sound pretty new age there, Mr. MD."

"Well," his eyes turned sexy. "I'm a sensitive kind of guy." He leaned over to kiss me tenderly then abruptly changed moods and pinched my ass.

"Ow!"

"Come on, let's shower and then I'll make you one of my bean curd and sprout omelets."

"My God," I groaned in mock horror. "Aliens have come in the middle of the night and replaced the man I love with Richard Simmons."

"Never happen. We're a team, you and me; not even aliens could separate us."

He walked out of the bedroom without waiting for my reaction. He already knew what it would be. He was right: nobody would ever separate us. Not that a couple hadn't tried...



October 1988

The sky was cloudless, the air tangy with the sweet scents of fall and beer. The sun shone down with hard rays, warming my face and hands. It was a perfect day for football. The only problem was: we were losing. 

Carl my old roommate and perennial football buddy, moaned in agony as Joe got sacked again.

"Third down," boomed the loudspeaker. 

"I can't watch anymore," Carl practically whimpered, than matched his actions with his words and got up. "You want a dog?"

I shook my head. He shrugged and took off trying to beat the half-time mob. 

For four years now, we had been watching the Wolverines together. As freshman, far away from home and friends, it had seemed expedient to go to the games together. After a while, it had become a habit and had given us some common ground that we didn't otherwise share. It had been the basis of a friendship that, while I wouldn't call it close, was something I valued. 

He had gotten married the previous June to a pretty little blonde named Ashley, who was sassy and funny and I was half in love with her myself. I was surprised and flattered, when he asked me to be one of his groomsmen. 

Ash didn't like football, but she had graciously agreed that Carl and I could continue our football affair, as she called it. So Saturday afternoons remained the two of us, up in the stands, yelling 'Go Blue!' and singing Hail To The Victors, regardless of whether the team won or lost.

There was one difference this year. Joe had landed us some killer seats at the 50-yard line. Now, while most of the students were crammed into the edges of the stadium, we sat with the Alumni bigwigs. Joe was so pleased to have been able to do this for us that I never told him I kinda missed the insanity that went on in the student section.

A hand grasped my shoulder firmly. 

"Jesus," I said without turning around. "That was quick."

"Mike?" It was not Carl.

I swiveled around in my seat, my mouth suddenly gone dry. There behind me stood Culvert Atchison Montgomery IV, sexy grin and all.

It had been over two months since I'd started my new job at the firm and I'd had plenty of time to check out Cam. Familiarity had not bred contempt. If anything, I thought he'd gotten better looking then when I'd first laid eyes on him. A lot of that had to do with how he acted, as well as the way he was put together. 

He was always friendly, always polite when he made a request and grateful for any work that you did for him. He snubbed no one; treated nobody like they were below his notice. He knew everybody's name from the overworked secretaries to the guy who cleaned the washrooms. It was no surprise that I wasn't the only person who'd have jumped in front of him to take a bullet. We probably would have fought over the honor.

My job, as I've mentioned, was research, and I'd be less than honest if I didn't admit that some of the research I'd done had been on Cam. No, I didn't do a TRW on him. But I asked around, casually, and I found out as much as I could without risking a reputation as a stalker. 

He was 34 years old, divorced, and the father of two kids, a boy 9 and a girl, 7. He and his ex-wife, Elise, were friendly; he kept a picture of her on his desk along with one of the munchkins. Rumor had it that his ex had left him for another guy; but I didn't buy it. I mean, who could she have found that would be better than Cam? He had been raised in Chicago and was from a wealthy family, but had decided to move to Ann Arbor after the divorce. 

His sex life was strictly private. Nobody knew anything for sure, but the prevailing theory was that he was still heartbroken over the breakup of his marriage; he even wore his wedding band. Of course it goes without saying I'd of loved to help him out by licking his wounds and any other body part he wanted me to attend to. 

But being the realist that I am, I'd accepted that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. Instead I'd been conducting my own quest for a new love, or a reasonable facsimile of that phenomenon. My results though, had been less than spectacular. I was beginning to be afraid that my senior year would be a relatively celibate one. Joe wasn't having a lot of luck in the love life department either, if his bitching could be believed. 

Ironic isn't it? Just as we'd realized settling down has some advantages; we both hit a dry spell. But the problem faded as I looked at the ice blue eyes of the face in front of me.

"Cam! I thought you were somebody else." I said inanely and unnecessarily; the man was not an idiot.

"Sorry to disappoint you." But his expression showed how unlikely he thought that was.

"No, no, have a seat."

"Okay, just for a minute," he swung gracefully around me to sit in Carl's vacant spot. 

I could feel the heat and strength of his leg as it brushed mine and the faint smell of some kind of spicy aftershave drifted past my nose. I had to restrain myself from sniffing appreciatively. Cam looked around him and raised his eyebrows.

"Great seats."

"Yeah, a friend of mine is on the team. He got them for me."

"Joe Lassiter." 

He knew about my friendship with Joe? My surprise must have registered in my face, and he answered my unspoken question.

"Pen told me you two were friends."

For a second, my heart warmed. Cam had been asking about me. His next sentence told me that wasn't the case.

"I was telling her about my not so glorious years at Northwestern. I was second-string quarterback. She told me you knew the kid with the golden arm."

"Yeah, not so golden today though," I sighed, though it was as much for my disappointment in finding out Cam was not checking me out, as for the dismal showing the team was putting out that day.

"I'm not sure it's entirely his fault, his blockers look like they've never seen a defensive play before." 

I nodded glumly in agreement. Cam laughed and shrugged.

"Hey," he admonished. "Everybody has a bad day now and again."

"Which would be fine, if it wasn't against the Spartans!" 

"Ah yes," he laughed, as only somebody who was from out of town would. "The famous rivalry."

"It's not just that," I protested, then grinned at the disbelieving look on his face. "Okay, maybe it is, but you have to understand what it'll do to our ratings. State isn't even ranked this year."

"Cheer up," he squeezed my arm. 

I could feel it all the way to my groin. Damn! This guy made me feel like a horny thirteen year old.

"Maybe they'll do better the second half."

I managed to stutter out some reply and he took his hand away which allowed my brain to clear. We continued to talk about the team, and the game. He told me he was with a couple of the partners and their wives, and pointed to some seats about twelve up from us. 

Carl came back and I introduced them. Carl joined in the conversation and we argued good naturally about what the Wolverines had to do to pull this one out. Finally, halftime ended and Cam rose to leave.

"I wish I could stay and sit with you guys," he said. "The people I'm with only want to talk about work. It's fun talking football."

"We're going out for some beers later with Lassiter," Carl said. "Ditch the stiffs and join us."

Cam looked at me and I nodded. My mouth was dry again and I seemed to have temporarily lost the use of my vocal cords. Don't be an asshole, I told myself this is just a bunch of guys getting together for some brews. But I almost jumped for joy, when Cam nodded.

"Thanks, I'd like that. I'll have to meet you though, I came with my associates."

Carl gave him directions to the bar. I sat there like an idiot. If I didn't get myself under control I was in for a very long and uncomfortable night.

We lost. Carl and I waited at the gate until Joe limped over to us. He looked beat; he had a cut lip and the beginnings of a black eye. He saw the look on my face.

"Don't even start," he warned, but I ignored him.

"Jesus Joe, those farm boys kicked the shit out of you." 

"Fuck you, Mike." 

"There you go, wishing for the impossible again."

We walked over to my car. Well, Carl and I walked; Joe hobbled. He really did look all out. I was a little concerned, so naturally I gave him crap until he groaned and slumped in the back seat of the car and covered his ears.

"Christ, why do I put up with this abuse?" He whined. "I could have gone out with some nice young thing that'd give me sympathy, instead of rubbing salt in my wounds."

"Yeah, but she wouldn't have liked it when you got shit faced and threw up all over the place." 

I watched his face brighten at the mention of drinking. Don't get me wrong, none of us were really drunks, but this was college and a lot of male bonding is done over a dozen or so beers. 

We eventually pulled into a dilapidated tavern about 10 miles out of town. It was our normal hangout after a game. Joe liked a little down time to unwind; so we usually avoided the crowded sports and college bars, though we probably would end up in one by the end of the evening.

We walked in and, as usual, it was only half full and everybody ignored us. We found a table and ordered a pitcher. 

About 15 minutes later, Cam walked in. Carl and I hadn't mentioned he was joining us to Joe. Carl had probably forgotten, and I didn't want to seem too eager. Joe looked at me quizzically, as Cam sat down.

"Cam," I said making introductions. "This is Joe Lassiter. Joe, Cam Montgomery, he's a partner at Croft. We saw each other at the game, and we told him to join us."

They eyed each other speculatively. I was amused. Two alpha males meeting for the first time can be very entertaining. Eventually, they relaxed and started to talk. Carl joined in, but I took the opportunity to sit back and watch the action.

It slowly dawned on me that they had more in common than just star quality. Physically, they were the same body type, coloring, hair, even eye color, though Joe's were a warmer blue and Cam's body had the mature musculature of a man in his thirties. Their voices were similar too. Low and masculine with identical inflection and accent; which was reasonable, when you knew they'd been raised in the same area of the country. 

There were, of course, differences. Joe had an air of enthusiasm, a joy in life, while Cam was more wary. When Joe smiled, it was open and inviting. Cam's, I saw, now that I could compare the two, was more ironic and world-weary. It made sense, when you considered the years and the experience that separated the two men. Joe, in another twelve years might have exactly the same mannerisms if life and love dealt with him as unkindly as it apparently had Cam. 

I shivered as that thought struck home. God, I hoped that wasn't a premonition. No way did I wish that kind of unhappiness on my best friend.

"You okay?" Joe said. "You're kind of far away there, dude."

"Yeah, just felt somebody walking on my grave is all." 

Joe shrugged and grinned and went back to arguing with Carl. Cam stared at me, his face briefly mirroring Joe's concern. I felt my stomach lurch, as my attraction to him dug in deeper. Jesus, I thought, freshman year I fell in love with Joe, a straight guy, and now I was repeating history with Cam. Was this my fate, to always fall for unattainable men?

Cam was still looking at me. I wanted to break eye contact, but my treacherous body wouldn't let me. Slowly his mouth curled up in a little, amused grin. Shit, he knew! 

It was like he could see into my soul. I felt my face flushing. The noise of the bar receded; the only thing I was aware of were icy blue eyes pulling me in like a tractor beam. At least, when I'd been so hung up on Joe, I'd been spared the humiliation of him being aware of the attraction. Now, I would have to deal with the knowledge that, Cam was not only fully cognizant of my schoolboy crush; he thought it was funny.

"Hey ladies," Carl broke the moment, and I went weak from relief. "It's been fun; but duty and marriage calls."

"What you really mean is, you're going home for some sex," Joe retorted. 

It was a well-established fact. Beer made my old roommate horny.

"Well at least, I'm going to get some tonight, which is more than I can say about you sad shits," Carl stood and tossed some bills on the table. "Later..." 

He walked away as Joe and I looked at each other and laughed. Cam stared at us, puzzled.

"Watch this," I said to him with glee.

Carl walked out of the bar, with his hand searching his pocket. Through the dusty plate glass window, we saw him stop in the parking lot and look around. Finally, he turned back and walked back into the building, his cheeks a fiery red.

"Mike?" He said pouting.

"Yes?" I had no intention of making this easy for Carl.

"Can I have a ride home?"

Joe and I broke into a roar. Cam realized what had happened and he joined in. Carl just stood and glowered at us.

"Assholes," he muttered.

"Aw," I said in mock sympathy. "Did the little head take all the oxygen from the big head and make you forget who drove?"

"Come on Mike, have some mercy," Joe added. "Take the boy home, so he can get some relief."

We all stood and got ready to leave. Joe and Cam decided to head to one of the pubs down by the school. I was going to meet them for burgers and more beer, after I dropped off Carl. 

I meant to do just that; but Ash met us at the door and invited me in. One look at Carl's agonized face, silently begging me to refuse was all I needed to agree to stay for a while. So, it was almost an hour and a half until I caught up to them. Well, one of them anyway.

"What happened to Joe?" I asked Cam, when I finally found him at the bar.

"He found a young lady with a hot tub." He grinned at me and stood. We grabbed a booth.

"Sorry, I didn't know you'd be stranded, I got caught by Ashley, that's Carl's wife."

"No problem, Joe just left a few minutes ago. I thought I'd stay for a while. I figured you'd show up eventually." 

"Thanks, it was good of you to wait."

"I wanted to," he looked at me with those incredible eyes and I mentally groaned. 

I was not prepared to a have a one on one evening with Cam. It had been hard enough, no pun intended, to sit with him when Joe and Carl were there as buffers, I had no idea how I would handle it alone. I struggled to find a safe topic.

"So," I finally managed to croak out. "How did you and Joe get along?"

"Okay, he's a nice guy."

"He's my best friend."

"He said the same about you," something about that statement amused Cam. "So tell me, how did you two meet?"

I told him, and in the telling I started to relax. It was a story I'd repeated a lot in the three years I'd known Joe. I'd learn how to tell it well, dwelling on the funny aspects and brushing off the real terror and pain that night had given me. But as I told it, I remembered, and the memory made me rub the scar I would always carry on the palm of my right hand. 

Cam noticed; he reached across the table and flipped my hand up and stared at it. "The surgeons did a good job," he said softly, still holding my hand in place.

"It works okay, though my handwriting will never win any awards and the scar feels kind of weird," I tried to pull my hand away, but he tightened his grip.

"Let me see," Cam moved his hand to trace the bumpy ridges on my palm. 

Even though I didn't have much feeling there; I shivered from his touch.

"It's cooler than the rest of your hand," he slid his fingers up, stroking mine.

My heart pounded in my chest. Could what I think was happening really be? My eyes searched his face. Yep. I may be slow; but I wasn't a complete imbecile. Cam grinned a lazy, sexy smile. He knew I was going to be easy.

"Are you sure?" I asked. I wanted him to spell it out, to make it perfectly clear in my mind. 

He obliged. "Sure this is wrong, considering where you work? Sure I'm getting in way over my head? Sure I want you?" He never broke his gaze. "Oh yes, I'm sure." He gave my hand a little squeeze, then released it and sat back.

"I'm starved," he abruptly changed the subject. "Didn't you say this place had great burgers?"

I nodded dumbly. He called a waiter over and got some menus. I managed to pull myself together enough to order. Cam started to chat about work, as if the last few minutes hadn't happened. 

Amazingly, I managed to restrain myself from dropping to my knees and sucking his cock. If he wanted to play it cool, then I would too.

The rest of the night passed in a blur. Part of me listened and laughed and responded at the appropriate times, but most of me was consumed with how the evening would end. 

I shouldn't have bothered.

We walked out of the pub at a little past midnight. The streets were almost deserted. Most people were at home by now, or still partying indoors. Cam walked with me to my car. I waited for him to ask me to his place; I wanted to ask him to mine. He didn't, and my courage failed me.




The Human Condition Ch. 05



"Do you like the symphony?" He asked.

No, was the word that immediately came to mind, although truthfully I had no experience to base that opinion on. Like most young American males; my musical taste ran the gamut of rock to heavy metal. 

"Yes, though I don't know much about it." Hey, if the guy had asked me if I liked watching pigs being slaughtered, I'd have agreed, if it meant seeing him again.

"Great, I have tickets to the D.S.O. for a special matinee tomorrow. We'll go and have dinner afterwards."

"Sounds terrific." I had no idea what the fuck he was talking about.

"I'll pick you up at 1," he leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. "See you then."

I nodded, my cock immediately hard from the soft touch of his lips. It didn't even occur to me until after he'd disappeared, that he hadn't bothered to ask for my address.

The next morning, I rose from my bed as nervous as a virgin on prom day. I shaved carefully then showered stroking myself into a climax that almost made a bulls-eye on the target I'd painted on the shower wall. The night before I'd hit it thinking of Cam's hot skin and hard muscles. I washed carefully, preparing for whatever was on the menu for after dinner.

I walked out of the bathroom wearing only a towel. Joe was sitting at my table drinking the coffee he'd apparently helped himself to from my machine. 

"Hey," he said slurping at his cup.

"Hey yourself."

"Hot date?" He pointed to my bed where I had laid out most of my wardrobe.

"Er, something like that." 

I wasn't sure if I should keep my budding romance with Cam a secret for now. The man obviously had been trying to keep his sexual preferences under wraps. It wasn't my job to challenge that.

"With Cam?" 

So much for secrets. I stared at Joe in surprise. Except for his occasional forays into reading my mind, he had never been very perceptive. 

"Come on Mike," he answered my unspoken question. "It was obvious. The guy never took his eyes off you."

I couldn't help it. I started to grin. 

Joe rolled his eyes. "Oh shit, you're gone," he shook his head and stared at his coffee. 

"He's great, isn't he?" 

The question was rhetorical. There was no denying how terrific Cam Montgomery was.

I walked over to the bed and looked at my pathetic collection of ties. Joe was silent. I glanced back at him. He was still staring into his coffee cup. An uneasy feeling settled into the pit of my stomach.

"Joe, you liked Cam didn't you?" This time I meant to have an answer.

"Yeah, he was okay." 

Uh oh, his voice was flat and he still wasn't meeting my eyes. I sat across from him at the table.

"Okay, what's wrong?"

"Are you sure?" 

I flinched, as he unconsciously repeated my words from the night before. 

"I mean he's so much older, successful. It doesn't sound like the start of a very equal relationship."

"Gee dad," I said, feeling a little bit better now that I realized Joe was just being an over concerned friend. "I'm a big boy now. I think I'm ready for the big leagues."

"Think you're ready for 'The Show'?" Joe relaxed and looked up at me.

"Yep, batter up," I stood, as Joe groaned.

I walked over to the bed and picked up a shirt and tie and held them up and looked at the mirror. I threw them back into a pile on the bed and tried again.

"What do you think?" I turned to Joe.

"That I'm not Mr. Blackwell, asshole. Pick out your own fuck me clothes," he walked over to the sink and put his cup down. "I gotta get going." He walked to the door.

"Hey Mike."

"Mmmm?" I was still engrossed in my wardrobe selection, so I missed the serious tone in his voice.

"Be careful," he said softly. "This guy really is a player. I don't want you to carried away here."

My head shot up and I studied the concerned look in his face. I appreciated the sentiment, but dammit it wasn't really any of his business.

"I think that's my decision to make, don't you?" I was careful to keep the hint of anger I was feeling out of my voice.

"Yeah, you're right," Joe backed down. "Later." And he was gone.

I'd like to say, that I thought about Joe's reaction after he left. Even now, I wonder how things would have turned out if I'd just taken the time to make him explain himself. But Hell, I was in testosterone heaven. The only thing I could think about was one o'clock was taking a fucking long time to get here.

I dressed, thought about it, undressed, beat off again, showered, redressed. I was twenty one, the age of almost unlimited orgasms, if Cam wanted to play later I'd be ready, but at least this way I wouldn't embarrass myself by sprouting wood the minute I saw him. 

I was still done primping a good forty minutes before Cam was supposed to arrive. I pretended to read and went quietly stir crazy. It was 1:10. I'd finally accepted he wasn't going to show, when I heard a knock at my door.

It was Cam. He was wearing a blue blazer, tan chinos and a striped tie. It was the ultimate preppy look, and an outfit I'd seen him in many times, at work. He looked at me and burst out laughing. 

Unconsciously, I had chosen basically the same clothes. I flushed, as I realized I'd done something so juvenile.

"Hey, imitation is the purest form of flattery," he said, pushing me away from the door and entering. "But, I think we're a little early into this to start dressing like twins; don't you agree?"

He walked over to my closet where I'd just rehung everything I'd been thinking of wearing. He flipped through some hangers.

"Here," he pulled my only other sport coat out; a camel cashmere I'd gotten at a second hand shop. "Wear this, and where is that green crew neck you have? I like that color on you."

I took off my blazer and he grabbed another tie. I put it on along with the sweater that I got from a dresser drawer. I topped it off with the sport coat. 

Cam stood back and eyed my appreciatively. "Much better."

We left and headed into Detroit. The D.S.O., I found out, was the Detroit Symphony Orchestra. We made our way to Symphony Hall; the show we went to was for charity and we had a box all to ourselves. I lived through it, just. It was some modern composer, no melody and lots of weird humming. 

We didn't speak on our way to a little restaurant in Greek Town. When we got there, Cam grabbed my hand and stopped me at the door.

"So, what'd you think?" He said softly.

"Great, it was just great."

He looked at me, smiled and tilted his head. 

I gave up and grinned back. "It really sucked Cam."

"It did, didn't it?"

We both started to laugh. 

Then Cam leaned over and whispered in my ear. "I'll have to think of something to make it up to you."

"I have a list," I shot back.

We laughed again, and Cam led me into the restaurant. Inside it was dark and quiet; we found a little table tucked into a private corner. Cam seemed to want to know everything about me and I had no will to refuse him. I told him about my home, family, how I'd felt when I first realized I was gay. 

I asked him questions too; but he shook his head. "Tonight is for your story. There will be others to tell you mine."

After a spectacular meal, full of things I'd never heard of, we walked. It had rained at some point, while we were eating; the streets were wet, the air sharp with the aroma of lamb and wet car exhaust. 

We visited a place with a belly dancer and she embarrassed the shit out of me, when she gave me a lap dance. Cam laughed till tears rolled down his face. We ate baklava from an all night bakery and dripped honey down our chins. He shoved me into a dark alley and licked my face clean, then smiled and refused to let me return the favor.

It was after 1 AM when we finally turned into my driveway. We'd spent 12 hours together. It felt like 12 minutes. I asked him up, but he said no. I was frustrated, and I let it show.

"Let's take our time Mike," he said gently, and stroked the side of my face with his long fingers. "Let me court you."

"I'm a sure thing," I responded bluntly and he laughed.

"I guessed that," he said dryly. "But I want to take our time here. We'll dance Mike, I promise you. Just not yet."

He gave me a light, closed mouth kiss that only made me ache for more. I grumbled, which made him laugh again.

"When do you work again?" He asked.

"Tomorrow morning and Wednesday evening."

"Hmmm, I have a deposition tomorrow in Jackson; it'll probably take all day," he noticed the disappointment on my face. 
"But Wednesday, well... I may have to work late that night."

It was all the encouragement he was going to give me. I got out of the car and walked up the stairs to my apartment; then I watched until his headlights faded into the darkness. Once again, my hand reached down to my cock. 

I made it through Monday and Tuesday and eventually, Wednesday arrived. Cam, good to his word worked late. He stopped by and casually asked me if I wanted to grab a sandwich. Of course I did. We went to Zimmerman's and ate corned beef. Again, I found myself frustrated when, he finished and said goodbye without once touching me. 

Thursday was better. We caught a flick at the local art house. We shared buttered popcorn, and he held my hand in the dark. His leg pressed against mine, and his breath was warm on my cheek, when he'd whisper an aside about the lousy directing in the movie. When we stood, he noticed the lump in my crotch and it delighted him. But, once again, he let me go home by myself.

Friday he called and asked me if I'd made any plans for Sunday. When I said no, he told me he was getting ready to put up his boat for the winter but wanted one more sail, if the weather permitted. I had never been on any of the big lakes, I told him.

"It's fun, you'll like it," he assured me.

We talked for a few more minutes, then he had to go. I looked around my apartment. Sunday seemed a long way off; and I had nothing planned between then and now. 

Except for the Tuesday poker game, I hadn't spoken to any of my friends all week, not even Joe. Now he and the rest of the team were in Urbana for a game against the Illini. They wouldn't get home until Sunday morning, at the earliest. 

Another group of friends, including Kevin and Saul, had gone down to West Virginia to do some rafting on the Gaulley River's big fall water releases. I'd gone the year before, and had been planning to repeat, but I'd canceled at the last minute, sure that Cam and I would be spending the weekend together.

It wasn't that I usually minded being alone. I liked downtime. But I was disappointed that my fantasies about Cam were not going to happen, and it made being by myself seem almost unbearable. I tried to study, then I tried to read, finally I flopped down in front of the boob tube with a 40 ouncer of beer and had myself a pity party.

I woke up in exactly the same spot, early the next morning. I was disgusted with myself. I was acting like some lovesick idiot. The problem was I told myself I'd been spoiled. In almost all my other relationships I had called the shots. It was, I was finding out fast, not as much fun to be on the receiving end. 

But I was determined to stop acting like some silly adolescent. 
I got up and fixed myself a big breakfast. Then I showered, shaved, and got ready to tell Cam that I was through being his plaything. Relationships are give and take; it was his turn to do some giving.

There was a knock at my door while I was still in the bathroom dressing. I thought it was probably Lucy. She'd gotten in the habit of dropping by every so often for tea and sarcasm. I'd left the door unlocked when I'd gone out to get my paper, so I just yelled for her to come in. 

I zipped my jeans, threw my shirt over one shoulder and walked out of the john expecting to see her, but she wasn't there. Instead, I could see a tall shape through the old glass in the door's window. I went over and jerked it open. I froze.

Cam stood there in a skimpy pair of running shorts and a torn sweatshirt with cut sleeves. On his feet, were the rattiest pair of running shoes I'd ever seen. His socks and legs were splashed with mud. Sweat had pooled at base of his neck and chest and turned the red shirt black. He looked wonderful.

"Hi." 

"What are you doing here?"

"This," he grabbed me by the shoulders and swung me around until my back hit the wall. His mouth came down on mine hard, and I gasped, giving his tongue the opening it needed. 

Dimly, I heard the door slam as his foot kicked it shut. Then he moved in closer with his body until every inch of our fronts were touching. I couldn't breath. I didn't care. My arms went around him and gripped with all the pent up lust I had stored up in that frustrating week. He pushed his cock into mine and they both stood up to make the other's acquaintance. We ground into each other, mixing pain with unbelievable pleasure. Abruptly, he raised his head and gasped in air.

"Christ, that was worth the wait!" He said between gasps. 

I said nothing. I was too busy, trying to taste every inch of skin on his neck. He obliged me by tilting his head, but he continued to talk.

"I was running, trying to get you out of my head and then I suddenly thought; why the hell am I postponing the inevitable? I want you Mike. Right now." 

I didn't have to be told twice. I knelt in front of him and grabbed the waistband of his pants. They were tight, and I struggled until it finally sunk into my sex-crazed brain that they had a drawstring. I pulled it and they slid down with a push. The jockstrap he wore followed easily. Then I had a good look. 

It was huge. Okay, before we get carried away here, I don't mean John Holmes huge, Cam was a lawyer, not a porn king. But it was the biggest I'd ever seen. I was no slouch in the size department either, being in proportion, so to speak, with the rest of my body, but Cam had me beat both in width and length. 

I'd never been a size queen. It's not the tool, it's what you do with it, had always been my motto. But now I found myself fascinated. I smelled his crotch. The odor was sharp and slightly sour with the smell of sweat. My mouth watered in anticipation. I had no idea how I was ever going to fit that monster between my lips, but I was determined to make it happen. 

I placed my hands on his tensed thighs and studied the problem. Tentatively, I stuck out my tongue and licked up a stream of his nectar. It was not the best I'd ever tasted; but it would do. His cock flexed at my touch; a long string of the viscous precum followed me, when I sat back. I slurped it in like a string of spaghetti and found my lips were touching his head when I was through. 

Since I was already there, I opened my mouth and invited him in. 

"Oh God." Cam whispered. 

He moaned, and I forced my mouth open wider and shoved another couple inches in, right up to my gag reflex. I took a deep breath and looked up at Cam's face. His eyes were closed and his mouth was open as he gasped for air. 

My tongue traced the big vein that ran down the side of his shaft. His head banged against the wall and he started to rock it back and forth, back and forth, as his balls began to rise up to the base of his shaft. He was whimpering now, far along on a journey that could end in only one way.

My own cock was stone, but I couldn't be bothered with it. I was only concerned about the man in front of me; his pleasure was mine. I took another breath and bore down on the tool that already filled my mouth to capacity. Then I swallowed. And swallowed again.

Cam exploded. A wave of cum crashed into my mouth; I thought I'd drown in it. His hips bucked and his cock jammed deeper into my throat. I struggled to breath and finally had to back off. Jizz spilled out of my mouth and down his twitching pole. Without warning, my own orgasm hit. I convulsed once, twice; my knees gave out, and I collapsed.

I was in his arms. He was kneeling, pulling me to him. He cradled me gently, murmuring into my ear hypnotically. I tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come. Cam stroked me soothingly. 

"Mike, buddy. Are you still with me here?"

I tried to speak again, this time with more success. "Did I just die? I mean, when do I have to go towards the light?"

"I think we both just did that, Mike."

Cam laughed and massaged my back and talked nonsense that I didn't try to understand except, for the tone, which was warm and soothing. We lay there for a long time until finally, my breathing grew normal. Eventually, I was able to command my body to make simple movements and I raised my head to look at him.

"Do you think you can get up now?" He asked me. 

I nodded yes and we proceeded to untangle ourselves from each other. Cam made it to his feet first. He was still wearing the sweatshirt and his shoes and socks. I grinned at his new look. His cock hung soft and harmless below the hem of the shirt, and bore no resemblance to the monster I'd just taken in my mouth.

I looked up at Cam's face smiling down at me. He held his hand out and I took it, pushing myself up with his help. He pulled me to him and hugged me; then stepped back still holding me and looked down.

"Looks like you need another shower." He said softly.

I dropped my head and saw the big wet patch on my jeans where my cum had soaked through. I flushed. 

"You have no idea how sexy it is to me, that you came just from blowing me," he assured me.

His hand reached down and caressed my damp jeans. As I watched, he took that same hand and moved it to his mouth, sucking the moisture he found there. 

"Mmmm, finger licking good," he looked at me and wiggled his eyebrows.

For some reason, we both found this hysterically funny. We laughed until we were both out of breath, then we proceeded to strip each other and headed for the bathroom.

Cam groaned at the small tin shower, but we both managed to squeeze into it. He saw the target on the wall and grinned. 

"Shit," he said shaking his head. "I'd almost forgotten how it feels to be as young as you are."

I wasn't sure if that was envy or a put down, but I decided to go with the first. "I guess it must be a bitch, to be an old man like you." 

"Old man, huh?" He rubbed his filling cock up against me. "We'll just have to see about that."

He kissed me, but then he insisted we stop and clean ourselves up before we got down to anything more serious again. He took a great deal of time soaping me up, and was insistent on washing every cranny even making me spread my legs while he knelt and slid his fingers through my crack. 

I shivered and slid my feet apart further, but when he suddenly pushed a finger up my hole, I involuntarily tensed. 

He misread my reaction. "Not used to that I see." He said withdrawing his hand from my ass.

"Uh, no, not really." That wasn't quite true, but it wasn't far off. 

I still had never taken up cock up my ass, and the longer I'd waited the more nervous I'd become about doing the deed. But something told me the day of reckoning was almost upon me. At least, it was if I planned on having any future with Cam. 
The finger play had just enforced my suspicion that my days as a virgin were probably numbered, and I be lying if I said that didn't freak me out a little. Cam stood up and pulled me around to hug me.

"That's okay," he whispered. "That's a problem that's easily rectified, and a lot of fun fixing."

"Maybe later," I said noncommittally. "But now I get to explore you."

I washed him as thoroughly as he had done me. The only difference was, when it came my time to check out his pucker, he shook his head.

"Sorry," he said as he gently led my hand away from the Promised Land. That's an outie not an innie."

I looked at him surprised. "You mean you're strictly a top?"

"Yes, is that a problem?"

I didn't know what to say. I mean, that was usually my line. I was pretty sure I was okay with being fucked occasionally. At least, I thought I would be, once I actually got the courage to try it the first time. But the idea of being Cam's bottom boy was something else again. 




The Human Condition Ch. 05



I'd always liked putting my cock in some guy's tight hole. Liked it a lot. In fact, it was my favorite thing in the whole wide world. 

"So what's the verdict?" He pressed.

"I don't know," I said honestly. "This is not an issue I've ever faced before."

"You mean you're a top too?" He watched me nod solemnly, and then grinned. "Well shit. It appears we do have a dilemma then don't we?"

We might have stood there forever, if the hot water hadn't taken that moment to give out. Both of us yelped and scrambled to get out without slipping and falling on our twin virgin asses. 

We swore and laughed and shivered as we grabbed towels and tried to dry each other off. Cam suddenly stopped, grabbed both ends of his towel, looped it around my neck and pulled me into him.

"Well for today, stud, let's agree to a Mexican standoff, and let me repay you for that blowjob that almost ended my life."

He led me out of the bathroom and pulled me all the way to the bed, where he pushed me down and literally gobbled me up. I moaned in surprise and lust and threw a boner that would have put his eye out, if he hadn't already had my rod halfway down his throat. 

For the next thirty minutes, he took me to the gates of Heaven and then refused to let me in. I begged, I pleaded, but Cam would not be deterred from his obvious goal of turning me into mindless idiot, who could deny him nothing. 

I barely even processed the fact that he had a finger up my ass, until he found my magic button and made me see stars. By then, I'd lost the power of speech and could only cry out as finally, finally, he let me slip over the edge and shoot my load into his hungry mouth.

It was minutes before I returned to some semblance of rational thought, and even longer until I regained the ability to form those thoughts into words. It didn't help that Cam had raised himself up to kiss me and share the remains of my load. It wasn't until I felt him slip his finger out of my ass, that I really thought about how he'd manipulated me, both literally and figuratively.

"You don't play fair," I murmured, too satisfied to pretend I cared.

"Hey, I'm a lawyer, we're supposed to use dirty tricks to get what we want."

"Hmmm." 

I wasn't being exactly honest, myself. I'd had other hands explore my back door before and I'd enjoyed it well enough. Now, I continued the deception, because I had the idea that Cam liked the idea that he was exploring completely uncharted territory. 

Also, I had a feeling that if I gave in too easily, I was going to find myself, all too soon, flat on my back with my legs over his shoulders and his cock up my ass. And I still wasn't sure that was a position I was prepared for, yet.

We snuggled, then dozed, then woke and explored each other's bodies until they held no secrets. Well almost none, Cam still wasn't letting me anywhere near his tunnel, though he seemed to like the rest of the attention I paid to his ass. 

Inevitably, we ended up in a sixty-nine. Cam left my butt alone while he brought me to another shattering climax. When it was his turn, he shot cautiously, this time letting me control the depths his cock reached. 

After we'd recovered he stood and dressed. He had a date for handball at 4 with one of the partners, and a dinner at a client's house after that. I forced myself to get out of bed, and walked him to the door. He kissed me and said he'd pick me up the next day at 9. Then he was gone.

I thought about taking another shower, doing laundry or cracking the books for a test I had the following week. I crawled back into bed and took a nap. 

When I woke, it was dark. I looked at the clock, 6:30. I swallowed cautiously, but Cam's monster apparently hadn't done any permanent damage. My stomach growled. I realized, that except for the bacon and eggs I'd made that morning, I'd had nothing to eat all day. I mentally reviewed the contents of my refrigerator. Unless I wanted to repeat that meal or call in for a pizza, I'd have to go out for a bite.

I took one more shower and got dressed. I headed to a nearby Mexican place, and stuffed my face with chili rellanos and enchiladas in Verde sauce. I finished my second Carta Blanca and paid the tab and left. But I wasn't ready to go home. I decided to take a walk.

Up until that time I had managed to avoid thinking about Cam. It wasn't that I wasn't happy with our surprise nooner. God no, it had been wonderful, almost too good. Which really was the crux of the problem. Joe was right; I was a goner. Head over heels, stars in your eyes, over the top in lust, maybe even more, though love wasn't a word I was prepared to use yet. But even without that ultimate commitment, this whole thing scared the shit out of me.

I knew this was going to be a totally different type of relationship. Cam was older, more mature and definitely used to taking the lead. Expected it even. Keeping him happy would mean letting him call most of the shots. That was not going to be easy for me. But I wanted him, and that overrode any misgivings I had about his need to take the lead. At least, I rationalized, for a while anyway.

I finally got back to my place at about 1 AM. I still wasn't sleepy, but then, I had taken a four-hour nap. I was restless and prowled my one room home like a tiger in a cage.

I needed to talk to somebody. I wished that every damn friend I had hadn't decided to pick this weekend to be out of town. I wanted to tell somebody, anybody, that I may have found the one. Even Lucy was gone. She'd left that afternoon with Richard who'd talked her into accompanying him to a seminar back east.

The phone rang. I went over to my nightstand and reached for it wondering who'd be calling so late. Even though I'd just gotten done wishing for human contact, a phone ringing this late made me nervous. 

I come from a family that firmly believes any call that comes in after eleven o'clock, has to be bad news. As I picked up the receiver, I was mentally reviewing the health of all of my relatives.

"Hello?" I said cautiously.

"You've been gone. I've been trying all night to get you," a deep voice growled quietly in my ear. 

My heart still raced, but now it wasn't from fear. "Cam?"

"Hi baby."

"Hi yourself," I plopped down on my bed, leaned back and crossed one leg lazily over the other. I wanted to get comfortable because I was hoping this was going to be a long, long conversation.

"How come you don't have an answering machine?"

"Hell Cam," I laughed softly. "I'm a poverty stricken college student. I'm lucky I have a phone."

"So where were you? I've been trying since 9 to get hold of you."

"I went out for a bite and then walked. I was lonely." I winced as I blurted that last sentence out. Shit, the last thing I wanted to do was make myself sound so pathetic.

"So was I; that's why I called."

My heart did an odd two-step in my chest at his words. So Cam had been thinking about me too. When I didn't respond, still too absorbed in this latest revelation, he continued.

"Too bad I couldn't have gotten hold of you earlier Mike; we could have been lonely together."

"I don't think lonely is ever how I'd feel, if I was with you."

"Jesus, you do have a sweet tongue on you," he changed the subject abruptly. "What are you wearing?"

"Clothes," I grinned and slid my hand under and up my shirt and stroked my abs.

"You're not ready for bed yet?" 

"I just got home. I was about to strip when you called."

"Do it now, Mike," his voice had taken on purring quality. "Get naked, and tell me how it feels."

Jesus Christ! The guy was making my balls melt and I hadn't even touched myself yet. But I took too long to answer. Cam mistook my lust-induced silence for reluctance.

"A little too much for you big guy?" He chuckled. "That's okay, I like the idea of expanding your horizons."

I shut my mouth and didn't make the protest I'd been ready to utter. If Cam wanted to play teacher, then who was I to argue, especially when the lessons were going to be so much fun.

"You know what I was thinking about tonight?" This time, he didn't wait for my answer. "I was thinking about you in those jeans this morning. I was seeing you open your front door in those tight pants; how the zipper was only half closed. Your hair was still wet from your shower, little drops spilled down on your shoulders and dripped down your chest. I remembered that little treasure trail of yours was all shiny and damp and how I couldn't keep my eyes off it, because I knew where it was leading to, under those tight jeans. And then, I thought about later; how wet they got, those jeans of yours. Wet through, soaked with your cum."

He laughed softly. I was so turned on I could barely breath.

"There I was, right in the middle of some boring client dinner, listening to some bullshit about personal computers being the wave of the future; and all I could think of was those damn jeans." 

"Oh shit," I moaned. "Swear to God, I'll put them back on right now, if you promise to come over and take them off me again."

"Sorry baby," he laughed again. "Tempting as that offer is, it's late, and I want you to get a good night's sleep. You've got a busy day ahead of you tomorrow." 

"God, you are a heartless bastard!" I half snarled into the phone.

"Yeah, I am, but isn't that one of the things that turns you on?" 
Before I could deny it, I heard the click of his phone as he hung it up.

It took me a long time to fall asleep. I set the alarm for 8 AM but it didn't register in my conscious brain until a quarter to 9. I shot out of bed. I managed to shower, shave and dress in 11 minutes.

Cam was right on time. We were dressed alike again: this time the uniform of the day was jeans and sweatshirts, and it was okay, because what else were you going to wear on a boat. 

We broke up the hour and half trip with a breakfast stop at Denny's, where we each got the Grand Slam and split an extra order of pancakes. 

On the road again, he told me about his boat, the Jenny Elise, named after his ex-wife and daughter. It was a cigarette boat purchased, he laughed, when he was going through a Miami Vice phase. He moored it in a little town in Michigan's thumb and he took it out onto Lake Huron every chance he got as long as the weather cooperated. After today it would be pulled and dry docked for the winter.

We reached the harbor about eleven. He pulled into a reserved parking space and motioned for me to follow him. He stopped and talked to a couple of workmen, and I watched him work his magic on them, as he had so many at Croft. Then we made our way down the pier until we came to a silver and white beauty that made me feel a lot happier than the symphony had the week before.

Cam was a skilled captain. He explained quietly and efficiently how we were going to set sail and what he expected my part would be in the process. We accomplished it all with a minimum of fuss, and soon we were out of the no wake zone and heading for open water.

I'd put in some time in speedboats before; had even learned to sail a little at camp. But the small lakes of Pennsylvania had never prepared me for the feel of the Great Lakes of the northern Midwest. 

The chop was small today, Cam told me, but I had no reference to measure it by. It felt huge to me, the swells ground beneath my feet and I staggered as I tried to find my sea legs. 

It was warm for October; the sun beat down on us from a cloudless sky. But the water was already cooling preparing for winter, and I was glad the windbreaker I'd brought was lined. 

We headed north for about an hour, then Cam turned towards shore looking for something. He found it a few minutes later. A small cove; deserted but relatively sheltered. It was state land he told me, part of Michigan's huge park preserves. It was forbidden to put down a permanent mooring, but nobody minded if you dropped anchor for the day or even a week.

We secured the boat. Cam went downstairs and got the picnic he'd had made up for us at a local cafe. We stuffed ourselves on ham sandwiches, cole slaw and pickles. Then we packed everything back up, grabbed a couple more beers and sat down across from each other, relaxing in the rays of the warm autumn sun.

Cam slipped off his docksider, and put his bare foot on my thigh. He stoked up and down on the worn smooth material of my jeans. I leaned back and rested my head on the chair cushion and closed my eyes.

His foot moved lazily to the inside of my leg, and I widened my knees to give him more room. He slid his foot further up until it rested lightly on my zipper.

"Are you ready for some football?" He sang the ditty softly. 

I laughed until his long toes found my cock where it lay under the material. My laugh changed to a gasp, as he captured it and squeezed lightly. He let go, only to slid his heel up to rub the length of my rod. Then his foot slid back down and repeated the whole business again.

I don't know how long we stayed that way. I only know that when he finally let go and brought his foot down to the floor, I was so swollen I thought I'd have permanent marks on my cock from my zipper. 

"Come on," Cam said in a husky voice. "Let's go down below while we can both still walk."

I wasn't at all sure I hadn't already passed that point, but I managed to stand and followed him through the cabin door. I'd just barely glanced below decks before we'd gotten underway. I looked around curiously now.

There was one main salon that took up about half the available floor space. It held the galley and a combination living eating area. Behind it was a tiny head and behind that were the two staterooms that took up the remaining space. 

One was so small it only held a narrow captain's bed with a trundle tucked under it. If the cot were pulled out, I realized, there would be no floor space left in the room at all. A built in cupboard over the bed was the only storage.

"For the kid's," was Cam's only comment.

The other room was larger, but not by much. It was empty except for built in drawers and closets along one wall. I looked at Cam questioningly.

"Watch this." 

He leaned into the room and hit a switch, there was a hum, and then the wall opposite us broke free and lowered slowly to the floor. It was a king sized bed and it fit in that room like wall-to-wall carpet. At it's head was a double shelf unit. I swallowed when I realized what was on those shelves. Cam ignored my expression.

"I had it specially made. The standard bed was too small for me to be comfortable in."

I just nodded. Cam laughed softly, and nodded towards the collection of lubes and the butt plug that lay on its side by the reading lamp. He pulled me to him and spoke softly.

"Don't worry Mike, this will be the time of your life."

"What happened to our Mexican standoff?" 

He laughed softly. "Didn't I mention that was a one day deal?"

"Yeah, but..."

Cam kissed me hard and slipped his hands around my back and slid them under my shirt. Automatically, I raised my arms and he broke off the kiss only long enough to guide the material up and off. We didn't stop until we both broke away gasping for air.

Then he stripped his own shirt and undid his jeans. His cock sprang out as far as it could, only stopping because it was trapped in the stretched confines of his red briefs. It throbbed. I could swear I could feel its heat and power even though I wasn't touching it. 

He reached for my jeans and snapped them open. He slowly slid the zipper down and I whimpered and leaned back against the wall, overwhelmed by the relief I felt at finally escaping my confinement. 

"Kick off your shoes," Cam whispered.

I obeyed and he knelt on the floor before me. He slid my pants and boxers down in one motion and left them in pile around my ankles. Then his head came forward and he licked the head of my cock. 

"Oh God, that feels great," I murmured.

He teased me, always promising but never quite taking my tool into his mouth. Instead, he blew hot puffs of air on my tender skin and swirled his tongue around my knob while he kept his lips wide and away from the shaft. As my knees started to buckle, he stood and pushed me gently back on the bed where I fell, my legs still trapped by the pants around my ankles. I swore and called him a bastard. 

I was starting to get a little pissed. It was one thing to go along with his daddy act on the phone, or out to dinner. But the game was turning serious, and I realized that the penalties might out weigh the scores.

"Don't think I'm a pushover," I warned him. "Maybe you should worry about your own ass a little."

"So," he whispered. "Is this going to be a contest?" He was amused, but serious and it showed in his voice.

"What's the game?"

"Whoever cums first loses." 

"And the prize is?"

Cam grinned lazily before he spoke. "Everything."

My head shot up, and I looked at him for a long moment.

Wordlessly, we both considered the stakes. As I'd already realized, Cam's and my affair was not going to be a naturally, equal partnership. He was an alpha dog, a natural leader. He would not give in easily to any demand that he be treated otherwise. 
I had never had that kind of competitive spirit, but at the same time, I had no intention of always playing follow the leader. 

Maybe this game was a way of letting him know this. If I won, I'd win a hell of a prize, but more importantly, I'd gain some control. If I lost, well I'd already figured out that it was inevitable that someday Cam was going to fuck me, and I was just as sure that I was going to let him.

He cocked an eyebrow and waited for his answer. I slowly nodded and he smiled. 

He finished undressing as I kicked off my jeans and socks and scooted back onto the mattress. I lay there, watching him come to me across that big bed, my heart pounding, my cock steel, my belly tied in knots of anticipation. And then he touched me.

I can't describe the next half hour. Between the two of us, I think we used every trick we could think of to make the other go over the edge first, while trying to prevent the same from happening to our own bodies. 

There were hard kisses and sharp bites from both of us; neither of us came out of that bed unmarked. The arena may have been small, but the stakes were huge and for a long time it seemed that neither of us would capitulate. But bodies can only take so much. And ours tightened and swelled; an explosion was inevitable. 

The game was almost over, but to cross the goal line first was no victory. Control was the prize. Gratification, while a relief, would not matter in the long run. 

I lost of course. I lay there panting, a pool of cum congealing on my belly, every muscle in my body exhausted, all my defenses broken. Cam knelt above me. His cock so dark and hard with blood, it looked like a medieval weapon.

"Oh baby," he whispered. "You are so beautiful."

Cam reached and softly stroked my hair. He would be generous in his success. But there was no doubt in my mind that he'd take what he'd won.

Now that he knew he was going to get my ass, Cam was in no hurry. He left the room and returned with a damp towel and tenderly washed away the evidence of my defeat. Then he lay down beside me and started a new game. 

He kissed me softly, teasing my mouth open, gently stealing my breath. He stroked my back and murmured low words of encouragement. He knew all the moves, and he used every one of them. 

He pushed my arms high about my head and held them there while his mouth drove me crazy. He nuzzled my armpits and fucked them with his tongue, first one then the other, over and over again till I rolled my hips in an agony of pleasure. 

He sank lower. 

He never touched my cock. I pleaded for his mouth and I bargained for relief, but he just laughed and kept on slowly driving me insane. 




The Human Condition Ch. 06



I yawned and scratched my chest as I shuffled into the bathroom. Joe was standing in front of the double sinks, blow-drying his hair. I leaned across the counter and pulled the plug.

"I thought you were going to wait for me?" I asked him.

"I thought you were going to get you ass out of bed sooner."

"Oh, do not even go there!" I stuck my tongue out him, but he grinned and grabbed for the plug. I held it away from him, but since he had a good grip on the dryer, he just reeled it, and me, in. 

"You look tired babe," he whispered into my ear. "Rough night?"

"There was this pest who wouldn't let me alone."

"Can I help it if you're irresistible?"

Joe put his arms on my shoulders and stroked down them gently. I sighed and offered him my mouth. As we kissed, his hands slowly dropped down my arms. He broke away from me and stepped back. It was only then that I saw he had the plug in his hand. 

"Hey, no fair," I laughed.

"Jesus, you are easy," he reached around me and plugged in the blow dryer. 

His hand rested on my hip and I felt his fingers trace the raised welt that crowned my right cheek; for a moment, his face hardened. I reached around and covered his hand with mine. Joe looked at me and managed an ironic smile.

"Sorry, it still gets to me sometimes."

"You shouldn't let it, I don't."

"I know, it's something I admire about you. I don't think I could have handled it as well."

I shrugged. This was an old conversation. "Everybody has scars, Joe. I'm lucky my worst ones are on the outside."

What I didn't say was why that was so. Joe already knew my theory about that. He had a hard time believing me, but I knew I was right. There had been a night, when I could have ended up with a lot more wrong with me than some damaged skin. Joe had been the reason I'd survived it, and he hadn't even been there...



February 14, 1989 

"I can't believe you still haven't gotten rid of that." Joe said as he looked at the back of my head.

"Shit, do we have to have this conversation every time you see me?"

Both of us looked at the wavy mirror that hung on the outside of my bathroom door. I turned my head sideways and swiveled my eyes so I could just catch a glimpse of the short ponytail that sprouted out of the nape of my neck.

"I was just wondering how long you're planning on keeping it, that's all."

"I don't know; I kind of like it."

Joe looked at me like I was nuts. It was obvious he didn't agree with me at all. I didn't understand it, normally he didn't give a shit about how somebody looked, but he'd been ragging at me about my hair ever since I'd showed up after Christmas break with it back in a ponytail. 

"And what does Cam think?" Joe was careful to keep any inflection out of his voice as he spoke my boyfriend's name.

"He thinks it's okay," I responded, just as carefully.

The truth was, Cam loved it. He thought it was sexy as hell and had no problem showing me just how turned on it got him. But Joe and Cam had never really warmed up to each other and it was easier to play down our relationship to Joe, than make an issue of it.

But, we definitely did have a relationship. Cam and I spent as much time as possible with each other and it was the most satisfying partnership I'd ever had. He was still controlling, but there were other benefits that more than made up for that. At least, that's what I told myself in the beginning.

The sex was great. Not, that Cam had changed his mind about how that side of things should go you understand. I never did get a chance at his ass. No the change was in me. I found that I really loved being a bottom. All he had to do was look at my butt and my hole would twitch in anticipation of having Cam's cock back where it belonged. Whatever other problems we faced, bed wasn't one of them.

But there were problems and as time passed they seemed to grow. Cam couldn't get past treating me like a kid. I know he tried, but he always ended up pulling rank. Nothing could piss me off faster than the feeling that I was just his gay version of a bimbo girlfriend. I had never thought of myself as a twink even when I was young enough to really deserve that title. It rankled me to think that now I was heading down that road.

Another issue between us was Cam's possessiveness. He really resented the time I spent away from him with my friends. I guess he had a point. Between my job and his, and then my school commitments, we didn't have much time to spend with one another. 

But it was my senior year, and I wasn't about to give up everything that entailed for anyone. And it wasn't like Cam was willing to meet me halfway. Except for the occasional game or night at a bar, he was basically uninterested in what went on in my life. He said he'd already gone through college and had no desire to repeat the experience. 

We ended up in an uneasy compromise. I hung out with my friends during the week, but found myself mixing with his friends on the weekends. 

And that was the other problem. I wasn't that wild about his friends either. Somehow he'd latched onto this group of very wealthy, very successful gay men, who seemed to think they were a cut above everyone else. The only time they stooped to mix with anyone they didn't deem worthy, which was just about everyone, was when they trolled the bars, looking for fresh pretty faces they could show off to each other for a couple of months until the novelty wore off. Then they'd dump the poor kid and move on to their next victim. 

I worried at first that this might be Cam's plan too, but whatever else he might be, he wasn't interested in collecting young men. He was satisfied with one, me. He just let it be known to everyone, including his law partners, that we were a couple. As he explained, he wouldn't have done that if he'd been planning on getting his jollies and moving on. It also answered another big question I'd had. Cam did not expect us to sneak around, not in public, not even at the office. 

He told me, he was out to everyone that mattered to him except his kids and he said he planned on telling them as soon as they were able to understand. He'd lived in the closet for enough years to know it was not a place he wanted to make his home. He even thought it was funny when I passed on the firm's gossip that he was still in love with his ex-wife. 

It seemed, Elise had always known he was bisexual. She'd even been turned on by it and had occasionally participated in a three way when they were first married. But as Cam grew older, his attraction for men kept growing until he wasn't really sexually attracted to women at all. 

He and Elise tried to make it work, but they kept growing farther and farther apart. He insisted they still loved each other, but they no longer had much in common except their kids. 

Inevitably, Elise came home one day and told Cam she wanted a divorce. She had met someone else. He said the real irony was they'd decided to celebrate with champagne and ended up in bed for some of the greatest sex of their marriage. 

That didn't change the facts though and next day Cam had moved out. The following June he'd transferred to Ann Arbor with the firm's whole-hearted approval. He told me that wasn't surprising since the 'someone else' Elise had met, was another partner in the Chicago office. But the upshot of this soap opera for me was, that Cam's preference for men was no secret to the powers that be and, as he was only nominally my boss, there wasn't any big problem with us seeing each other.

So while we didn't exchange kisses in the elevator or meet for a quickie in the copy room, we didn't keep our dating a secret at work. It was less of a scandal than I'd been afraid of. I got a few curious looks from the partners and a couple of the secretaries winked when they saw me, but that was about the extent of it. Pen, of course, had wanted to know all the details, but I kept my mouth shut and bought her a few lunches to make up for it and she stopped bugging me. 

For the first couple of months, I was pretty content with how things were going. It wasn't perfect, but then, what was. I'd never really believed in true love anyway. I was fairly certain this was as reasonable a facsimile of that fairy tale as I was ever likely to encounter. I might have stayed believing that too, if circumstances hadn't thrown me a few curves. 

"You're not going to turn into Fabio or something?" Joe's question brought me back to the present.

I shot him a dirty look. I really did like my new 'do', though I'd grown it almost by accident. It was lack of time and funds that had led me to skip the first few barber appointments, but then I'd started to think it looked good. It had taken a while, but now I could tie it back or pull part of up into a clip. Most people liked it, even my mother, who'd embarrassed the Hell out of my Dad when she told him, in front of company, that she thought he'd look sexy with a ponytail too.

"Oh for Christ sake's," I muttered as I brushed past him on the way to my closet. "You'd think I was all decked out in Kevin's transvestite whore outfit."

We both automatically swiveled our eyes to the bookshelf where the bitch shoes held a place of honor. They'd been there ever since that first night of the Tuesday Game.

The game was still going strong. Except for holidays, we hadn't missed a week. Sometimes Kevin would bring a buddy along to, as he said, even out the numbers, but the core group was pretty much the same. The only real differences were that Carl had started to show up now that Ashley had a Tuesday night class, and Saul was missing this term because he'd landed a spot on a dig in Africa somewhere and wouldn't be back until April. 

What I'd sworn would never work, had turned out to be the basis of some of the closest friendships I'd ever had, and I was pretty sure the rest of the guys felt the same way. In some weird way, we'd all come together inside the walls of my apartment. We'd had to, almost by necessity, drop our preconceived ideas of who somebody had to be because of skin color, or religion, or sexual preference and instead, had concentrated our efforts in finding out who the person who bore those traits really was. And, for us at least, this familiarity had bred not contempt, but acceptance. Joe had been right; things had worked out and all of us were the richer for it.

Though not all of us were happier. Something was bothering Joe and had been for a long time now. It was there in the absence of light in his eyes and the sag of his shoulders; it showed in the smile he rarely used and the silence that had never been his style. Everyone noticed, and although the unspoken code of guys prevented us from sitting around and discussing it; I could tell by the worried looks on everybody's faces, that we wished there was something we could do to help him out of his funk. 

But whatever demons Joe was fighting; he had chosen to face them alone. That was his choice; believe me. I tried to find out what was wrong. I'd hinted, I'd guessed, I'd prodded and poked. Then when none of those worked, I just came out and asked him what the hell his problem was. It was no use. He wouldn't talk about it, not to me, not to his roommate, Beau, not to anybody. 

Of course, this doesn't mean I couldn't have made a pretty good guess about what was wrong. In fact, I was pretty sure I knew exactly what was causing him grief. And my conclusion depressed me.

It was Betsy, beautiful, charming, sweet, funny Betsy. She and Joe had gotten back together and, on the surface at least, things were just as good as they had been before. But looks can be deceiving. 

When they'd first dated, one of things that had been so great about their relationship, had been the real pleasure they taken in each other's company. Now when you saw the two of them together, Betsy was distant and distracted, and Joe always seemed to be on the verge of bolting. 

Only occasionally did they seem to recapture their easy intimacy of three years ago. Most of the time, they looked like two strangers who were being forced to spend time in each other's company and were determined to make the best of it. It really wasn't either of their fault. I honestly thought that, under different circumstances, those two could have been very happy together. I knew they loved each other. 

But the reason for Betsy's return to Ann Arbor had changed everything. And it was that, more than anything else that had testing their feelings for each other to their limit.

The day I'd come home to find Joe waiting for me, Betsy's brother, Ben, been admitted to the AIDS unit at the U. He never left. The drugs that promised so much, didn't work on Ben. He didn't have a whole lot of time left and Betsy spent every minute she could with him. The rest of the time she needed to work to support herself. 

Joe was there for her as much as he could be, but it's hard to carry on a romance across a deathbed. And it was still football season. Joe was the quarterback and co-captain; he had obligations to the team, although it was obvious his heart was no longer in it.

I spent a lot of time with Betsy, and with Ben. Partially, this was to act as a stand-in for Joe, but also, I'd meant it when I'd promised myself to be a friend to Betsy. And we were friends now, very good ones. I think it surprised both of us, how close we'd actually gotten. There were even times when I think Joe felt a little cut out.

But I wasn't the only one though who had fallen under Betsy's spell. Everyone who met her liked her immediately. She had one of those types of personalities. I'd stop up at the hospital room on my way home from work or class and there would be Ronnie or Kevin, or some of the other guys trying to make her smile and helping her with taking care of Ben.

Which really wasn't a hardship; Ben was a good guy. I never heard him complain and he had wicked way of making fun of his situation. It made you laugh, even when your heart was breaking. I'd never seen him when he wasn't sick, but he still retained the same curly black hair and deep gray eyes as his sister. I was willing to bet that he'd been gorgeous before AIDS had reduced him to a skeleton and Karposi's Sarcoma had left huge purple lesions on his chest and neck. 

We talked a lot over those last six weeks of his life. Ben had a story tell and I was the one he'd picked to hear it.

He told me that he and Betsy had gotten their looks courtesy of an Italian mother and black Irish dad. I had to take his word for it since it didn't look like I'd get to check that out for myself. His parents had kicked him out when he'd been arrested his senior year in high school for engaging in lewd acts in a public place. That was how the paper had reported it. Actually he'd been picked up in a sting at a public rest stop just off I96 outside Grand Rapids. 

Ben had always known he was gay, but he'd never had the guts to do anything about it. He couldn't come out to anybody in school; he'd seen what had happened to a friend of his when the word had gotten out that he liked boys. The kid had been beaten up daily and only the fact that he graduated stopped the abuse. 

Ben wasn't willing to put himself through that. But he also was getting desperate to find some kind of outlet for his sexual needs. He heard about this rest stop being the place to go for a blowjob. The night he was picked up was his first time there.

Just his luck, he'd turned 18 the week before. His name had appeared in the Press and his appalled parents had never even tried to get him out of jail. It had been 20 year old; Betsy who'd finally scraped up the money for his bail when a high school friend had called her dorm to let her know her little brother was in trouble. But there was no way she could talk him into facing school; he'd finally taken off for New York City, where the high school friend who'd had all the trouble had moved.

His name was Philip and he was a singer/dancer who'd gotten work as a gypsy on Broadway. He kept at it for a year or so, but then he got an offer at one of the clubs in Tribeca to work as a female impersonator. He'd just started there when Ben showed up. Apparently, he'd always had a thing for the younger boy and he had no problem taking him in, first just into his apartment, and later his bed.

For a while it looked like maybe they'd make a go of it. Philip really did love him, and Ben was grateful. Sometimes he even convinced himself that he felt the same way. But Ben met some people who offered him a lot of money to make some movies. Yeah, those kind of movies. Philip begged him not to do it, but Ben hadn't been able to find any work, and he was increasingly ashamed that he couldn't hold up his end of the rent. 

It wasn't too bad, at first. The company he'd hooked up with was considered pretty legit in comparison to some of the sleazebags in the porn industry. The problems started because Ben was almost too successful and he started getting other offers that weren't so stand up, but paid a lot more money. He began to hang out with some of the people he worked with, and he started to do a lot of drugs. 

By this time he and Philip were always fighting. Inevitably, after one vicious blowup, Ben packed his bags and moved to San Francisco. It was his being there, that was the reason Betsy had chosen that city to move to after she graduated.

Ben liked the wide-open lifestyle of the Castro district. He moved into a flat with three other guys and proceeded to have as much sex, with as many men, as possible. 

He was still doing porn flicks, but he was no longer the fresh young face. In order to get work, he had to agree to raunchier and riskier scenes. By the time Betsy moved to town he was routinely engaging in unprotected sex on and off camera, often with multiple partners. He became known for his ability to take abuse. And, he admitted bluntly to me, for his addiction to cocaine.

He tried to hide his occupation and his drug use from Betsy, but she was a smart girl. It didn't take her long to figure it all out. She went into her big sister mode and insisted he face his problems. First she got him into a treatment program; then she got him a job as a waiter. Once again, it seemed like Ben might be going to be okay. But about a year after Betsy arrived he started to feel tired and listless. He kept saying it was the flu, but nobody has the flu for three months straight. Finally, Betsy talked him into seeing a doctor. 

That had been the previous July. Since then there had been a steady round of doctors and treatments. Nothing worked. He was already resigned to his death when Betsy insisted they come back to Michigan where some new research was being done. He'd agreed, but only because it meant so much to her. 

It wasn't long after they'd arrived that Betsy left for a couple of days. Ben had known what that meant, even though she offered no explanation for her absence. Betsy still kept in contact with their parents and he knew she still hoped that they'd come around and accept Ben for what he was. 

But apparently, not even the inevitability of his death was enough to make them change their mind. When Betsy came back, she had new lines around her mouth and a hardness in her eyes that only disappeared when she looked at Ben. She never told him about her meeting with their folks. But she never mentioned their names to him again either. 

It took Ben a long time to tell me all this. Sometimes, this was because it was difficult to admit, and sometimes because he just didn't have the energy to talk. At those times, I would hold his hand and sit there silently with him. I don't know what he was thinking about during those quiet hours, but as for me, I thought about how lucky I was. 

I could have been like Ben if my family had turned against me. Hell, I probably would have been. But for whatever reason, the Gods had been kind to me. It wasn't like my parents were perfect; my old man was the stubbornness' S.O.B. that ever walked and my Mom drove all of us up the wall with her constant chatter. But the last time I'd gone home, my dad met me at the door with a big grin on his face and my mom had made pot roast for that night's dinner because she knew how much I loved her gravy. 




The Human Condition Ch. 06



It was after that dinner, that I finally got the courage up to ask my Dad the question I'd been wanting the answer to for almost six years. Ben's own confessions had forced me to think about my own life and relationships. 

I suddenly needed to know, to have it spelled out, what my parents, especially my Dad, felt about me, and the direction my life had taken. I took a deep breath and asked him how he really felt about my being gay. 

He looked at me for a long time. "You want the truth?" He asked.

"I wouldn't have asked otherwise."

He shrugged. "Okay then, the truth is I hate it."

I flushed and dropped my eyes. I wasn't exactly surprised, my old man was never going to be the poster child for liberal tolerance, but I'd been hoping he'd at least come to accept my sexuality, if not embrace it.

I don't know how long we stood there, but I was determined that I wasn't going to be the first to turn away. I'd raised the goddamn issue, the least I could do was face the answer. It was my father who finally sighed and stepped forward towards me.

"But Mikey, that's a bullshit question and what I think about you being gay doesn't mean crap," he slid his arm into a lock over my neck and pulled me down so he could kiss the top of my head. "Cause it doesn't matter.  You are who you are.  I'm not some asshole who doesn't know that."

"I just don't want to feel like I've disappointed you," I said. 

"Aw Jesus, Mikey, you should know better than that," he squeezed me harder. "For a smart kid, you come up with some of the dumbest shit." He let go of me, stood back and cleared his throat.

"Now go help your mother take out the garbage or something so she doesn't bitch to me later that nobody ever helps her. Then get your ass back in here so we can watch that Schwartzenegger movie your brothers insisted I let them rent. I want to make sure the body count doesn't go into the triple digits," he sounded gruff, but I knew he was giving us both time to recover. 

I turned to go find my mom, but I didn't get out of the room before his words stopped me again. "You know, you should have asked me if I loved you," he whispered huskily. "Cause that's the only thing that really matters as far as I'm concerned. And in case your wondering, the answer to that question is yes, always, forever." 

And I realized that he was right. It had been a bullshit question. I didn't need his approval, I needed his love and I had that.
So yeah, I was lucky all right. My folks might not be checking the paper, looking for the next gay pride parade to march in, but they loved me and accepted me and isn't that what really matters? At least it seemed that way to me on those cold autumn days when I sat with a dying boy whose parents couldn't forgive him for being the person he was.

Ben died three days before his twenty-second birthday on a snowy day in December. The cause of death was listed as pneumonia. He had come down with it the week before and we had all watched him as he slowly lost his struggle to breath. He was a fighter and finally, Betsy, going into her big sister mode for the last time, told him it was time to let go. 

As Joe, Abdul and I watched, she held his hand and said it was all right to leave her; she'd miss him forever, but she'd be okay. I don't know if he heard her or not, but he seemed to relax after that and he quietly stopped breathing about 15 minutes later. 

We said our final good-byes to him on his birthday. The service was held in a little chapel on the outskirts of town. There were only 10 pews, but half of them were empty. There was only me, Lucy and the guys from the Tuesday game plus a few others from the hospital and some of Joe's other teammates. 

I sat and thought about that as the hospital chaplain performed the ceremony. Nobody who'd really known Ben was there, not one friend had made the trip. I knew Betsy had made some calls, but apparently the news had not instilled any need to attend in the people she'd told. I thought about all those men that Ben had known. Had he meant so little to them? I knew that nothing could hurt Ben anymore, but I felt a cold anger at the people who had used him and then forgotten about him when he no longer could give them what they wanted.

The Chaplain finished up with a prayer, then six of us stood and picked up the coffin to take it out to the hearse. Ben had wanted to be cremated, so there was no graveside ceremony. We shuffled awkwardly down the aisle and for the first time, I noticed a small, blond, delicate looking man in the back pew. 

He was blowing his nose as we passed, but he looked up and I saw the tears that were still streaming down his face. I recognized him from a photo Ben kept by his bed. It was Philip. It seemed I was wrong, someone had been there to mourn Ben and the boy he had been.

Afterwards, we all went back to Lucy's for a small buffet. Philip came too and I met him. He was charming and funny and if you didn't look real close, you could almost miss that his heart was broken. He sat close to Betsy and they talked about their childhood together. 

She asked him to stay, but he had to get back to Chicago. His show was on the road now and he couldn't take another day off. He promised to return soon though, when he could get the time. His leaving started the exodus, soon no one was left except myself, Joe and Betsy. They left a few minutes later.

Joe had moved his stuff from the frat house to her place. He was going to stay with her, at least until the next semester. She needed him, he said. I hoped that now they would finally be able to figure out where they were going and that both of them would be able to find some happiness. 

I didn't see Joe again until after the Christmas holidays. He had taken Betsy home with him. His parents had loved her at first sight, when they'd met her all those years ago. They welcomed her now into their family. I think they'd were half expecting to hear an engagement announcement. That didn't happen and Joe had returned from the holidays looking more lost than ever. 

Every time I looked at him, I couldn't help feeling like I was somehow letting him down. But I saw him less and less as his commitments with Betsy grew and my own time was taken up with school and work and Cam. I did notice that he seemed to gradually be coming out of his funk. He wasn't exactly his old happy go lucky self, but he appeared to have made some progress with whatever was bugging him. At any rate, my own troubles with Cam were starting to grow and I was too self absorbed to worry much about Joe anymore.

My crisis had started when I went back to Pennsylvania for the holidays. I'd loved being home with my family and had a great time with them. In a way, that had been the problem. Here I was, supposedly in the middle of this great love affair with this handsome guy and I didn't miss him at all. If anything, it had been a relief to not have to deal with juggling my schedule to fit him and everything else in. That bothered me more than if I'd been pining away for him. 

Three months before, I'd have said being with Cam was a dream come true. I was beginning to think that there was something wrong with me. That I had some basic lack inside myself that wouldn't allow me to really commit to another human being.

Ironically, the more I pulled away from Cam, the more determined he was to strengthen our ties. Right after I got back from the holidays, he started bugging me to move in with him. He had a big house and there was plenty of room, but I was increasingly convinced that he wasn't the guy for me. I used my lease with Lucy as an excuse to put him off. 

Cam wasn't stupid though. He sensed my ambivalence and he tried to fight it, first by being as nice as he could possibly be, then pushing me to move in and make a commitment. When neither worked, he grew frustrated. He became sarcastic and critical as if he was trying to bring on the breakup we both were beginning to realize was inevitable. By the time February rolled, around I think the only reason we were still together was each of us was too stubborn to be the first one to call it quits. Only the sex could still be thought of as satisfying and even that warm glow lasted only as long as it took us to get our rocks off.

Joe suggested we meet him and Betsy for drinks on Valentine's Day before going off for more private celebrations. It seemed like as good a way as any to start off a holiday I wasn't at all sure I wanted to celebrate. We were meeting in the bar where Cam had first made his intentions known to me. It was also the place where Betsy and Joe had met for their first date three years ago. We were going there as a romantic gesture. 

Yeah okay, it was a farce, at least on my side, but I still wasn't sure if I was ready to give up on Cam and me. I figured a nice dinner by candlelight, couldn't hurt. That's what I thought we'd be doing after the bar, a romantic dinner for two in a dimly lit restaurant. 

The only problem was, I'd forgotten to clue Cam in on what I wanted, and he had a very different agenda in mind. He'd committed us to going to go to a party at one of his friends. He'd told me this just two nights before. Told me, not asked. More proof, I thought, that my wishes weren't a big consideration with him. 

To say I was not looking forward to Valentines Day anymore was an understatement. But I couldn't cancel because of Betsy and Joe. So now, here I was, getting ready for a date I couldn't wait to be over. 

"Are you just about ready?" Joe asked as I finished with my tie and put on the new, dark green sport coat, my folks had gotten me for Christmas.

"What's your hurry?" I countered. "We don't have to pick up Betsy for another half hour and Cam won't be meeting us until at least seven."

"I thought we could get a head start with a beer." 

"Sure, there's a six pack in the fridge, grab me one to while you're at it."

Joe took two bottles of LaBatts out and handed one to me. We assumed our usual positions on each end of the couch. He took a healthy swig and closed his eyes.

"You know," he said. "I'm going to miss this."

"Why?" I joked. "You going somewhere?"

I knew he wasn't. Both of us had gotten into a couple graduate schools. Joe had his pick of Stanford, while I'd been accepted at both schools I'd applied to, including Hastings in San Francisco. But the thing that had made us both ecstatic was we'd been accepted at U of M. I loved Ann Arbor and there was no doubt that this was where I wanted to stay for another three years. Joe felt the same way. I knew this, because the celebration, when we'd gotten our letters, had lasted for an entire weekend and the hangover had been one of the worst of my life.

"I want to tell you something," Joe said quietly. "I'm going to ask Betsy to marry me tonight."

"That's great," the words came out automatically, but I was surprised. While I knew they were doing better, I hadn't realized they'd come that far.

"I know we got off to a rocky start," Joe answered the look on my face, not the words I'd spoken. "But it's better now."

I nodded, but something about the tone of his voice didn't ring true. I wasn't sure who he was trying to convince, himself or me.

"It's time, Mike. It's the right thing to do and it's time." 

Uh oh, this didn't sound like the words of a man who was so in love he couldn't wait to pop the question. I knew I should keep my big mouth shut. I opened it anyway.

"Look," I broke in. "I love Betsy, you know that, but are you sure, man? I mean, let's face it, you haven't seemed to be the happiest camper in the park lately."

"That isn't Betsy's fault," he shook his head. 

"Okay, I'll give you that, but Jesus, Joe, I don't want you to rush into this because you feel some responsibility to take care of her. When you think about it, that's even kind of insulting to Betsy. She isn't a child; she's a mature, adult woman. I don't think she'd thank you if she thought you were asking her to marry you because you were sorry for her."

"Shit, Mike," Joe stood and started to pace. "That is not it at all. You have to believe me here. Sure, I'm sorry about Ben. But God, I wouldn't marry her because of that." 

He turned and looked at me. He looked like he was desperate to convince me of his desire to get married. "I love her, Mike, I really do. There isn't another woman I could even begin to think of spending my life with. And I want that, you know I do, I always have. I want a family, a wife, kids, dogs, cats, hamsters, the whole nine yards. I can't imagine a life without those things."

"I know you do, but shit, you're twenty two years old, Joe, you have your whole life ahead of you. If you're not a hundred percent about this with Betsy, maybe you should wait."

"No," Joe came back to the couch and stood over me. "I've thought a lot about this. My whole life, I've known that someday I'd settle down. This is it Dude. I'm going to marry Betsy."

We looked at each other for a long minute. Every part of me screamed this was wrong, but then I looked at the pleading in Joe's eyes. He needed me to be happy for him. I'd already upset him with the little I'd said; it was time for me to mind my own business and trust Joe to know what was best for him. 

"Hey, it's your life." I stood up too. "You know I love you man, Betsy too. If this is what you want, then I'm really happy for you." I almost sounded sincere.

I grabbed him for a bear hug, but he stiffened in my arms and moved away. Somewhere in my brain an alarm went off. There was something else he hadn't told me.

"If she says yes," he continued. "I'm going to suggest that we move to Palo Alto. I think it would be good for us to start over somewhere fresh and I know Betsy loved California."

"You want to go to Stanford?" I just stood there. 

Hearing about the marriage had been a shock, but now, listening to him tell me he would be leaving, left a hole in my in heart you could've put a fist through. In the back of my mind, I'd been preparing for the day that Joe and Betsy would get married, but I'd never considered they might be moving away when they did it.

"I just think it would be best. I don't know, maybe she won't even go for it."

No, I thought dully, she'd go for it. She'd say yes to the proposal and yes to the move. Joe was right; Betsy loved California. She talked about going back there all the time. I think she would have already, if it hadn't been for Joe. 

"So when do you think all this'll happen?" I finally croaked out. 

"Well first, I have to ask her," Joe smiled, but his eyes were concerned. I realized this wasn't any easier for him than it was for me. 

"I'd like to get married as soon as we can throw together a wedding, maybe in Chicago, since Betsy still wants nothing to do with her family. Then we should probably head west right away to get settled before I have to start school."

"So you won't even finish the semester?"

He shrugged. "I've already got my credits; I was just putting in time." I knew that, Joe had taken summer classes when he'd been working on the AIDS project; he was way ahead of the rest of us.

We stood there awkwardly, then I moved forward again to hug him and this time he let me. It was brief and clumsy and it came to me as he let go first; he's already leaving me. And my mind already started to think about this--the beginning of the end of our friendship.

It wouldn't happen right away. Next week would probably be pretty much the same as usual, but soon, the wedding would take up more of his time and then there'd be the round of goodbye parties and showers that would eat up the hours we'd gotten into the habit of spending together. Pretty soon the marriage would be a memory and he and Betsy would be gone from my daily existence.

We'd talk on the phone a lot the first months, but then it would gradually taper off till we just exchanged Christmas and Birthday cards; finally I'd find a birth announcement in the mail and I'd send some dumb ass toy. In a move, I'd lose his address and I'd keep forgetting to call his parents to get it again until too much time had passed and I'd figure there was no point in bothering. 

After a while, he'd just be this guy I knew in college. Maybe we'd meet in 20 years at an alumni reunion and we'd sit there and try to think of something to say and all we'd really be thinking is, why in the Hell was I ever friends with this guy? 

The picture was clear and vivid in my head, but even as these thoughts formed, I realized I was kidding myself. Maybe I'd play out that scenario with a dozen other guys I'd met on campus, but I was never going to wonder why Joe had been my friend. And I admitted to myself, I would never stop missing him, no matter how much time passed.

Joe put his hand on my shoulder and I leaned into it. I felt the strength in him and my chest constricted at the thought that soon I might never know his touch again. An idea formed and danced on the edge of my mind. I almost staggered as I grappled with thoughts I'd believed I'd never face again. I teetered on the edge of acknowledging something I couldn't even bear to put into cogent thought. Mentally I threw myself back from the abyss. Then I wrenched myself away from him and went and got my coat.

Somehow, I managed to get through the next couple of hours. Joe and I picked up Betsy and we all went to meet Cam. We had a couple of drinks and made polite conversation. At least the three of them did. After all my exertions, I hadn't been able to block the thought that had struck me, as I'd felt his hand. 

In one moment of absolute clarity, I had realized that all my carefully constructed arguments, all my emotional constraints, all my rational mental justifications, were just so much bullshit. Because no matter what I'd deluded myself into believing; the truth was I was hopelessly in love with Joe Lassiter. I had been since the day I'd met him. His leaving wasn't just the end of our friendship. For me, it was the end of everything.

I almost couldn't breathe from the truth of this amazing discovery. The damnedest thing was, for a couple of minutes, I felt this kind of elation, no, maybe relief was a better word. At least, I now knew why I'd never been able to really care about anybody else. For whatever reason, my heart had made its choice and nobody else had ever been enough to convince it that it had made a mistake. 

Then reality crashed in like a tidal wave. My new self-awareness may have been a sign of my growing maturity, but it did nothing to change the facts. Joe was straight. He had chosen a woman to be his mate. And he was planning on leaving as soon as he could manage it. There wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. 

I glanced across the booth at Joe and Betsy. They looked so right together. Even now, I could see that. Her exotic darkness next to his all American good looks made them a stunning couple. They sat easily together and I realized Joe had been telling the truth; things did appear to be better between them. 

As I watched, I saw Betsy pick up the hand Joe had rested on the table and hold it in both of hers. Absently she smoothed the gold hairs that grew at the base of his fingers. I felt a stab of jealousy as I realized how much I wanted to be the one to do that. The need to touch Joe was suddenly overwhelming and my hands twitched with the effort it took not to reach across the table for him. Abruptly I stood.

"Excuse me, I have to..." I stopped, momentarily at a loss for words. I had to get away, be by myself for a few minutes.

"Hey, when you gotta go, you gotta go," Cam said, misunderstanding me, but giving me the excuse I needed all the same.

I took my cue from his words and escaped in the direction of the john, but I walked past it and went out the back door into the alley. The wind was cold and there was a light rain coming down. It was already hardening into crystals and would soon be nothing but ice. I barely noticed as I stood there, my mind preoccupied by what I'd just felt back in that bar. 




The Human Condition Ch. 06



I don't know how long I stayed away, but eventually I realized I was shaking from the cold. At least, that's the explanation I chose to believe in. I turned and opened the door and went back in. There was a man coming out of the restroom and though the hall was dark, one look told me it was Joe.

"There you are," he grinned. "We were beginning to get worried."

He moved closer and his face came into view, courtesy of the dim light of a wall sconce. For the first time in years, I really studied Joe. The long square jawed face was losing the boyishness it had held when I'd first laid eyes on it. Now it was thinner and showed off the bone structure that would keep him handsome for as long as he lived. The deep blue eyes were open and friendly, but there was also awareness that life didn't always go the way you wanted it to. His mouth still naturally curled up into a half smile, but little lines were starting to form at the corners. They didn't all seem to be from laughing. 

Sometime in the last three years, Joe had become a man and I'd missed the transformation. Maybe it was because I'd been afraid to examine him too closely, that any scrutiny of him might have forced me to examine my own feelings, something I couldn't afford to do if I was to keep up my self-deception. But that was gone now, so I had nothing to lose by looking. Joe had changed. He was no longer the boy I'd fallen in love with. Now, I thought with a sense of unbelievable sadness, he was the man who was about to break my heart.

"Hey Mike," he said softly. "You are okay aren't you?"

I didn't think I was ever going to be okay again, but I nodded yes and he smiled.

"Good, listen Betsy and I are going to take off now. I just wanted to say goodbye."

We walked back to the table together. Betsy and Cam both had their coats on and the four of us walked out into the parking lot. We said our good-byes and I watched as Joe and Betsy walked over to his Bronco. Then I turned back to Cam. 

At least, I thought, I'm not completely alone. But that realization depressed me. As a consolation prize, Cam left a lot to be desired. We got in his Jag and turned in the opposite direction as the Bronco.

I had been to the house we were heading to once before with Cam. I hadn't enjoyed myself. The man who owned it, Randall Ohle, was an architect and the house was more like a piece of sculpture, than a place where someone lived. It was all hard angles and odd shaped rooms. The entire interior was white with occasional splashes of red by way of a large pillow or a small rug tossed haphazardly on the floor. It was my idea of what an operating room would look like after a particularly bloody surgery.

But it wasn't the decor I objected to; it was the company. The first time I'd been there had been for a small dinner party. There were three other men there, including our host. They were all gay, but Cam had been the only one to bring a date. The others were older, established professionals who were all at the top of their chosen fields. They'd fussed over me like I was a child at my first grown up party and more than ever, I felt like Cam's trophy date. He had promised me this time it would be different. For one thing, this was supposed to be a large party.

He was right, it was a large party and it was different; it was worse. Now there were at least 20 men like the three I'd originally met. All of them had brought dates this time. I felt my face flush as I looked at my counterparts. We were all at least 10 years younger than our escorts and though the older men ran the gamut of body types and attractiveness, the boys were all of the same cut. Oh, we may have varied as to hair color, height and individual features, but the basic requirements were the same. We were all young, good looking and very well built. 

I flashed Cam a look of pure outrage. He had the grace to look apologetic, but I could see he was trying to keep back a smile. He may or may not have known what kind of party this was going to be, but it was obvious that it amused, rather than offended him.

"You're a bastard," I whispered to him.

"I thought it was just a regular party," Cam protested, then he looked at my face and sighed as if bored. "Jesus, Mike, lighten up. I promise, I won't let anybody threaten your precious virtue."

"Oh fuck you," I was too angry to be eloquent.

"Yeah," he shook his head in mock sadness. "But not tonight, I'm willing to bet."

I had to stop myself from tossing my head, with its little ponytail that I was now regretting for the first time. Bad enough I was being treated as some cute airhead. I didn't need to act like one. 

I turned and stomped over to the bar. I hadn't touched my drink at the last place. Now, getting numb seemed like a very good idea. I ordered a double martini and gulped it down in two swallows. I asked for another one and told them to keep the ice--no need to take up all that room in the glass.

An hour later, I had achieved my goal and then some. I stood on the edge of the crowd with my back against the wall and watched the show. I was still angry and what I was seeing didn't help any. The boy toys were all being played with. Hardly a one was able to stand still for a minute without some guy's hand feeling his butt or casually brushing a hand over a package that was all so carefully showcased in tight fitting pants. 

It didn't make a difference to me that none of the younger guys seemed to mind this attention. If they were too stupid to see how humiliating this treatment was, than I'd have to be offended for all of them. 

My disgust built a wall around me and nobody had the courage, or maybe it was just the inclination, to try and breach it. They left me to fume alone and that suited me fine. For the first two hours I was there, the only person I talked to was the bartender and that was just because I wanted to make sure my glass stayed full of the anesthetic I had chosen for the night. 

At least my anger had driven my thoughts about Joe to the back of my brain. Perhaps that was my subconscious motivation in the first place. Anger is such a great mask for hiding pain.

But of course someone was bound to approach me eventually. He was a man I'd never met before. He introduced himself as Elliot. He looked like an Elliot, medium height and build with a receding hairline that less polite people would have labeled as bald. He wore wire-rimmed glasses and looked exactly like what he was, a banker. I thought I'd never seen anybody who looked so harmless.

He talked to me for a long time and fetched me a drink when mine was empty. He didn't seem to notice that I wasn't keeping up my end of the conversation, but just kept asking me questions and pretending he was interested in the answers until I capitulated and started to pay attention. Finally he took my hand and led me over to a sofa, where Cam was talking with a pretty young boy who didn't look old enough to be drinking the beer he held in his hand.

"Look who I've convinced to join us." 

Elliot threw out his arm with a flourish then pushed me down on the sofa, which wasn't hard, because my legs were sending signals to my brain that standing was no longer a good idea. I sat down with a plop and what was left in my glass splashed over the rim and landed with a wet splat on the cushion beside me. 

I grinned drunkenly. Served old Randall right, I thought. Who the hell would ever pick out a white couch?

Elliot sat next to me on the dry side and put his hand on my thigh and squeezed lightly. Out of the corner of my eye I watched Cam's face harden. 

Served him right too; he had no reason to get pissed. Elliot was only treating me like all the other boy toys in the room. If Cam hadn't wanted that to happen then he should have thought before he brought me here. 

I wiggled a little closer to Elliot to see how that went over. The effects were gratifying. Cam never changed his expression, but a muscle twitched in his temple and the look in eyes was one I'd learned to avoid. Then he smiled and I knew how angry he really was.

"Elliot," he spoke softly. "Andrew," he gestured to the boy, "tells me you've been together now for 6 weeks. That's a record for you isn't it?"

"You know me too well, Cam." Elliot laughed and turned to me. "Did you know your boyfriend is an old fraternity brother of mine?"

I tried not to look shocked, I'd have been willing to bet that Elliot had to be at least 10 years older than Cam. Apparently, I wasn't too successful at hiding my surprise. 

Elliot shook his head in sadness and spoke. "I know what you're thinking, but we can't all have a picture up in our attic you know."

Cam and I both laughed politely at his joke. Andrew looked bewildered. Well, I'd already figured out that most of the younger guys here had been picked for their looks, not their minds.

"But Mike," Elliot went on. "You seem like a smart boy. I bet you already know it's not wise to judge a book by its cover."

This time I laughed in earnest, not because Elliot was funny, but because I saw the look on Cam's face. He looked like he was ready to kill his old fraternity buddy. 

"So, fill me in," Cam once again was speaking to Elliot. "Is this it? Has true love finally tamed you?"

"Well, I don't know about love, but I'm certainly in lust with the boy." Elliot leaned over my lap to give Andrew a quick kiss on the mouth. 

I thought the effect of the gesture was spoiled though when his hand slid into my crotch and gave a light squeeze. He leaned back before I could protest, though I could swear he winked at me as he sat back.

"Although that doesn't mean I'm selfish." 

I wasn't sure I understood what Elliot was getting at, but Cam had no problem getting the implication.

"If I remember correctly, you never were," he agreed. "Greedy, maybe, but never selfish."

"Exactly," Elliot nodded. "So? What do you think?"

Cam looked at me. He could tell I didn't have a clue what they were talking about. I think that pleased him.

"What do you think Mike?" He asked. "Interested?"

I was too drunk to play these games. It pissed me off and I had no problem showing it. "Why don't you just tell me what the fuck you're talking about and maybe then, I'll know if I'm interested or not." 

"Elliot is asking me it I'd be willing to trade you for Andrew for the night." He ignored my stunned face and looked at his friend. 

"You were talking the whole night here, right? I mean, Randall may have a couple spare bedrooms if you're only interested in a quickie?" 

He glanced back at me and decided he'd tortured me enough. "Forget it Elliot, Mike here, is a romantic. He doesn't have a wild bone in his whole body. Look at his face, he's stunned." Cam glanced at me himself and smiled, he was really enjoying himself. "I bet he doesn't get a wink of sleep thinking about your depraved suggestion."

It was his smile that did it. I hated that particular look of his. It told me that he thought I was a child and acting like one. In my drunken state, I decided it would be wonderful to just one time, be able to wipe it off his face.

"Ignore him, Elliot," I spoke carefully so I wouldn't slur my words. "I think it's a great idea."

Elliot started to laugh but I was barely paying attention. His wasn't the reaction I was interested in. Cam's face froze as our gazes locked, but I saw a flicker of something in his eyes before he dropped the curtain. It had looked suspiciously like hurt and I almost backed down, but the moment passed and he turned from me to look at Andrew.

"Are you okay with this?" Cam asked him.

"He's fine," Elliot answered before the boy could open his mouth.

"Are you?" Cam ignored Elliot's answer and continued to look at Andrew.

"It's okay." Andrew said the only two words I ever heard him speak.

The next few minutes passed in an alcoholic blur. Only once did things come back into focus. We were getting our coats from one of the bedrooms when Cam turned to me and grasped my arm.

"You don't have to do this."

"What?" I was so drunk by this time I'd almost forgotten what had just happened. 

"Jesus, you made your point. Just get your damn coat and come with me!" Cam gripped me tighter and I struggled to get free. He let go suddenly and I fell back on the bed awkwardly.

"Shit," Cam said disgustedly, "you are in no shape to make any decision about this right now."

"Fuck off!" I yelled. "I already have a goddamn Daddy, Cam, I don't need you telling me what to do."

"Oh this is such bullshit. You don't give a damn about Elliot, or me if the truth were known. You're just pissed because 'Golden Boy' found a new playmate and is dumping you for the little woman."

I lay there stunned.

"Yeah, he told me while you were gone pouting somewhere and Betsy was in the bathroom. He was so happy, he couldn't keep the secret to himself."

"I hate you."

"Swell, now get your ass up and let's go home." He swatted me on my shoulder and got up. I didn't move. 

"I'm not going with you." 

"You're not still thinking about going with Elliot," he rolled his eyes.

"Considering the alternative, I think it's a great idea." 

"Fine, but don't come whining to me when things don't go your way. Elliot isn't the little milquetoast you think he is. He won't take your crap the way I do. In fact, there's something about him that's..."

The argument would have continued but Elliot and Andrew picked that moment to show up at the bedroom door. I leered drunkenly at Elliot and blew him a kiss, knowing that would enrage Cam even more than he already was.  I'd made another discovery that night as I'd leaned against the wall getting hammered.  Whatever else happened, Cam and I were through.

And now it seemed that Cam recognized that too.  He spun on his heels and stormed out of the room as Andrew hesitated and then followed meekly behind him. Elliot helped me off the bed and we made our way out of the house, to his car. 

The roads were slick with icy rain and Elliot had to concentrate on his driving. That was fine with me. I was in no mood for conversation. As soon as Cam had left, I'd started to regret my decision to go with this guy. I'd done a lot of stupid things before, but grudge sex wasn't one of them. Elliot seemed like a nice enough guy.  At least he was no worse than any of the other men Cam hung out with. But I was not attracted to him at all. 

It took us about 25 minutes to get to house which was located about 10 miles outside the city limits. By the time we pulled into his driveway, I'd decided. No matter how foolish it made me look, I was going to have to tell him I'd changed my mind. I hoped I had enough cash in my wallet to cover a taxi, because I figured there was no way Elliot would be willing to take me back to my place after I admitted he didn't turn me on. He turned off the car and I screwed up my courage and started to speak.

Surprisingly, he was very nice about it. In fact, he was so sympathetic that I felt even worse about turning him down. He insisted that he would drive me back to town; all he asked was that I wait for a few minutes while he ran in the house to let out his dog. He asked me to come in with him and, since I already felt like I'd treated him like shit, I agreed.

There was no way that I was in the least bit threatened by this man anyway, regardless of the warning Cam had given me. For one thing, I was pretty sure that was just Cam blowing smoke up my ass in an effort to get me to give in and go home with him. For another, I had 7 inches and maybe 40 pounds on this guy. There was no way he could make me do anything I wasn't agreeable to. 

The house surprised me a little. It was more rustic and smaller than what I'd pictured Elliot's taste to be. It was also quite isolated. We'd had to go about a half mile down a dirt road to get to it. He saw my surprise and explained that this was a cabin he owned for weekend getaways and holidays. When he flipped on the light, I saw he'd been prepared for a romantic evening. There were logs in the fireplace waiting to be lit and an ice bucked sat on the coffee table with a bottle of champagne already chilling. I felt worse than ever about pimping out on him. 

He let the dog, an old asthmatic beagle, out the back door. When he returned a few minutes later, he was carrying two drinks. I'd sobered up a little and the last thing I needed, or wanted for that matter, was more alcohol, but I was not about to refuse his hospitality. I forced myself to drink the whole thing.

We sat there for about 10 minutes and then the dog scratched at the door. Elliot went back to the kitchen to let him in. I stood up to get ready to leave. Damn, but that last drink had been a mistake. My head was swimming. Elliot came back into the room as I was looking around for my coat.

"Hey let me show you the cabin before we go," he said. "I did a lot of the renovations myself and I'm pretty proud of them."

I followed him into two bedrooms and made appreciative noises at the tile work in the bathroom. Then he opened a fourth door and I followed him in. 

It was dark and he leaned around me to reach the light switch behind the door. As he did, he pushed the door closed and I heard it click shut. I was having a hard time concentrating. I felt like I was becoming drunker by the second and my eyes weren't focusing. 

Elliot found the wall switch and pushed it up. The light blinded me and I instinctively closed my eyes.

"Not feeling to well?" Elliot asked softly. "Well, we'll see if we can do something about that."

I opened my eyes and looked around. Oh shit. It was a dungeon. Only, not like in a castle; but a dungeon never the less. The walls and floor were white and shiny slick like they were covered in some kind of plastic. I noticed a drain in the center of the room and there was a hose attached to the wall. But I only noticed this as a sidebar. 

What really captured my attention was the equipment that was housed in the room. I could probably spend pages describing it, but I won't. It's enough to say that there were enough chains, ropes, whips and some nasty looking wooden scaffolding in the corner to give me nightmares for the next six months. The only furniture I actually recognized was a single bed in the corner that was covered with a plastic sheet.

As bad as it was though, I wasn't scared. I was still thinking my size and youth would probably be enough to change Elliot's mind if he tried any tricks on me. Instead, I just stood there and looked at him. 

Both of him, I blinked hard, but there were still two Elliot's in front of me although neither of them seemed to be able to stand still. And then I realized, Elliot wasn't moving, I was. 

"What did you give me?" I asked, though my thickening tongue made speech difficult.

"Nothing terrible, just a mild tranquilizer to make you a little more amenable to spending some time with me." 

I watched as both of the Elliots made their way over to a cabinet attached to the wall. He opened it and took out a heavy leather whip. 

Instinctively I backed up and stumbled as my feet refused to move the way I was ordering them to. I fell to my knees and when I raised my head, I saw Elliot standing over me.

"You rancid piece of shit," he hissed, "Did you really think you could get away with waving your cock in my face and then changing your mind? You should have listened to Cam, I am not somebody who ever takes crap from anybody and certainly not from a boy like you."

"Wha' do you think you'll ac... accomplisssh?" My words were so slurred they were barely recognizable, but I was fighting desperately not to lose consciousness.

"Don't you know?" Elliot sounded amused. "For such a smart boy, Mike, you aren't very perceptive." He placed his hand on my wobbling head and grabbed my hair, forcing me to look up at him. "I'm going to teach you a lesson and after I think you've learned it, I'm going to fuck you."




The Human Condition Ch. 07



I went over to the triple-sized shower stall and turned on the dual jets. Okay, I admit it-this was the real reason we'd bought this house. The architect apparently had a water fetish. 

Not only was the shower huge, it had a built-in bench and enough hoses and gadgets to fulfill any fantasies our vivid imaginations could think up. And the shower wasn't the only thing the designer had added. The master bath also had a 6 by 6 foot Jacuzzi and a sauna. The first time Joe had seen these toys, his eyes had lit up and I'd known that it didn't matter if the kitchen tiles were turquoise and the taps gold. We had found our home.

I stepped into the shower for the second time that morning. The hot water beat down on my shoulders and I sighed from the feeling as clouds of steam rose up to envelope me in a blanket of warmth. I reached for the shampoo as Joe stepped into the enclosure. He took the shampoo out of my hand and poured a big dollop of it into his palm.

"I thought you were all done?" I said, eying him suspiciously.

He grinned. "Yeah, but you had to take two, so I thought fair was fair." 

Joe pushed me gently until my head was under the jets. I waited while the water did its job, then stepped back. He reached up and massaged the shampoo into my scalp. 

"Mmmm, that feels good," I murmured as his strong hands worked their magic.

If Joe had any kind of fetish, this was it: he loved to shampoo my hair. Well... actually anybody's hair, if I was honest about it. But now, I was the lucky one who reaped the benefits of his little hobby.

It was Betsy who'd turned him on to the pleasure. That long, curly hair of hers had been gorgeous, but those tresses were a time-consuming, royal pain in the ass. Joe'd told me that he'd spent so much time waiting for her to get out of the bathroom, that he finally decided it was a "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em" situation, and he'd started to help her with the chore. It wasn't long before this shampoo ritual was one of the high points of their relationship. After they broke up, he'd continued the tradition with all his girlfriends... and eventually with me.

Joe had been nervous, almost embarrassed, when he'd first admitted this to me, but I told him it didn't matter. It was the truth. I didn't mind that I wasn't the first lover he'd played this game with-as long as I stayed the last.

"Do you remember the first time I did this?" Joe could still read my mind.

"With Betsy?" I asked, my eyes still closed.

"No," he said, still gently massaging my scalp. "With you."

Okay, so he wasn't perfect at it. Still, it was close.

"Yeah," I chuckled softly. "I'll never forget it. Jesus, I was so scared."

"You were scared?" He massaged harder and I bit back a groan of contentment. "Think of me! I didn't know what the fuck was happening."

I opened my eyes, then looked over my shoulder at him and raised my eyebrows. 

He grinned back sheepishly. "Okay, I knew, I just wasn't ready to admit it." He kissed me lightly on the mouth, his hands still tangled in my soapy hair. "But I'm real glad you..."

"...and Betsy." I couldn't help it; I had to add that.

"...and Betsy," Joe sighed and agreed, "pointed out the error of my ways."

So was I, I thought, though at the time, I wasn't sure at all...


February 15, 1989

I never heard the details about exactly what happened on that Saturday morning. Lucy, Beau, Kevin and some of the others who were involved told me bits and pieces, but the only one who knew the whole story was Joe, and to this day, he refuses to talk about it. All he's ever said was that the minute he walked into my apartment, he felt there was something terribly wrong.

In the end, though, it was Kevin who finally put all the pieces together and figured out where I was. Joe called him first, after he'd gotten to my empty apartment around 2AM. He didn't know Cam's number and he was hoping Kevin had it. 

Kevin - being no fool - could tell from the tone in Joe's voice that it wouldn't be a good idea at all to let him talk to Cam. Even if I was there and fine, Kevin had this feeling things could get ugly. Like I said, Kevin was smart, and he'd already noticed things about Joe's behavior that I'd completely missed. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Kevin told Joe that he'd call Cam and get back to him. He had a little bit of trouble convincing him to go for this, but he finally managed by suggesting that Joe check with Lucy and see if she knew anything. They could kill two birds with one stone. Joe reluctantly agreed, and Kevin hung up and called Cam. 

He wasn't exactly worried at that point. Kevin figured I'd maybe overslept or something. But when Cam answered and curtly told him he didn't know and didn't care where I was, alarm bells went off. 

He figured there was no way he should pass that message on to Joe. Cam hadn't been exactly forthcoming on the phone, but Kevin thought he might be able to do better if he saw him in person. Of all my friends, Kevin got along with Cam best. Cam respected his work at the center, and had even volunteered some time down there to help with the legal problems that always follow runaways. Kevin was grateful to him and they'd struck up a cordial, if not close, acquaintance. So if anybody was going to get Cam to come clean about the last night's events, it was Kevin.

He showed up at Cam's door ten minutes later. Cam was a little belligerent, but he didn't refuse to talk to Kevin. He did, however, make it clear that he thought the whole thing was an utter waste of time. 

So Cam told him what he knew, but that seemed to lead nowhere. When Kevin insisted, Cam had dug around until he found Randall's phone number, who in turn gave them Elliot's. But Elliot wasn't home when they tried him, and the boy, Andrew, had vanished. 

Apparently, Cam hadn't taken advantage of his part of the boyfriend exchange. Once he'd gotten Andrew in the car, he'd told him it was nothing personal, but he wasn't in the mood. He asked him if he wanted Cam to take him home, but Andrew had said no and asked to be dropped off at a friend's. 

Cam didn't know the friend's name, and the apartment complex he lived in was huge. Cam wasn't sure which building Andrew had gone into, since they all looked alike to him. Kevin tried to pin him down, but the only thing he could remember was the building faced a clubhouse and one of the windows had a block "M" blanket in it instead of a curtain. Not exactly a great clue; half the students at the U of M used school memorabilia like that as decorations.

Kevin thanked Cam anyway and asked to use his phone. He knew that Joe was probably chomping at the bit by now and only hoped that Lucy had been able to keep him from going completely crazy. The phone was picked up on the first ring. Joe answered and Kevin explained briefly that Cam and I had parted ways fairly early the night before. Then, he told him about Andrew and Elliot, going into as little detail as possible.

Joe exploded. In between threats about what he was going to do to Cam if he ever saw him again, he told Kevin he was going to go look for Andrew. Kev tried to explain how impossible that would be, but Joe insisted. Kevin agreed to meet Joe at the complex. He couldn't let him do it alone, no matter how hopeless he personally thought it would be. 

They started knocking on doors. Eventually, even Joe realized how long this would take. It didn't mean he was ready to give up though. He called Beau and Abdul and Kevin did the same with some other friends, and eventually they collected a posse to help. 

Now it was both Joe and Kevin who were being labeled as alarmists, but as the hours evaporated and there was still no sign of me, everybody caught the panic bug. Betsy had a friend at the hospital check admissions and Kevin got a hold of a police detective he knew from his work at the kid's center. The cop was sympathetic and said he'd put out some feelers, but there was nothing he could do officially because I hadn't been missing long enough for the police to become involved. 

It was Beau who finally knocked on the right door in the apartment complex. A young man named Charles opened it and reluctantly admitted that Andrew had spent the night with him. Beau called down the hall to Abdul to find Joe and then he stepped inside the apartment.

At first, Andrew didn't want to talk to him. As the room filled up with my friends, he grew increasingly frightened and hostile. Kevin showed up and ordered everybody else out. Then he took Andrew into the bedroom and started to plead with him. Fifteen minutes later he walked out of the apartment with a white face and a slip of paper with an address on it.

Joe would have gone himself by then, but Kevin convinced him to wait until he could get his cop buddy to meet him. It was decided that Beau and Abdul would also go along. Size and numbers might be necessary. The rest of the group said they'd wait to hear from the other four. They said their goodbyes, leaving Joe and the rest of the group to wait in the apartment complex's parking lot for Kevin's pet detective, Bob Hoyle.

As I said though, I didn't know any of this at the time. To be truthful, there wasn't much I was aware of by then, including what was being done to my body. The pain had become too great to distinguish individual sources. Elliot had been very efficient in dealing it out. Even so, he hadn't succeeded in breaking me. 

Hey, don't get the idea I was Rambo. I cried, I screamed, and I tried to reason with him. But I never pretended I liked it, never begged him for more, nor would I admit that he had bested me, even though somewhere in my head I knew that would've probably make it easier.

Because that was what he wanted. It wasn't enough for him to just do what he did to me; he needed me to approve of it, too. And that I couldn't do. I'm afraid this only made him more determined, and he used all his resources to make me change my mind. Strangely, in the end, it wasn't me who lost control, but Elliot.

Through swollen lids, I'd watched the man I'd labeled as mild, turn into a monster. I'd unleashed his demons by my refusal to give in to him. Maybe if I'd been smarter about it, I would have pretended for a while, and maybe I'd have been able to get away with a beating and a little rough sex. Now, I had the feeling that we'd traveled too far down this road. He could never release me. Not only was I an example of his failure, but I was dangerous. I knew what he was capable of, and I couldn't be trusted to keep my mouth shut.

He turned his back on me and I saw his shoulders were shaking. He was grappling with a decision. I thought dully that I knew what it was going to be. I was almost out of time. Elliot turned around again and I glimpsed what was in his hands. It was blurry, but even through my dulled vision, I could see a sharp metallic edge that glinted as it came towards me.

"Oh, Jesus, Joe," I thought or even may have said out loud, "you have to come now."

He did. They all did. There was the splinter of wood and the crash of breaking glass. Shouts sounded in the house and there was another bang as the door of the dungeon imploded under Abdul's weight. I sagged against the chains that held me and waited. 

"Put it down!" a voice I didn't recognized ordered.

I opened my eyes just as Elliot backed into a corner and started to babble. "Get out of here! This is private property! I'll call the police! I'll have you arrested!" He screamed like a man possessed, waving his arms wildly.

"I am the police." The voice again and now I saw it was connected to a curly-haired blonde who looked more like a little kid than an avenging angel. Then I saw the expression on his face and changed my mind.

"Oh, Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ!" Abdul, who never swore, repeated over and over.

The room was crowded now. Abdul had been first, then the man who said he was a cop. I saw Beau and Kevin frozen in shock as they took in the contents of the room. But where was Joe?

I felt hands gently slide around my torso, lifting me up, taking away the terrible strain on my shoulders. I groaned in relief and pain as cramps seized my stretched muscles.

"Shh, Mike." Joe said softly. "It's okay, buddy, it's okay now. I'm here. He won't hurt you anymore."

He barked at Kevin to find the keys, and together they got me down off of the rack. I was naked and bloody and Joe held onto me like he would never let go. When I was finally released, he half-carried/half-dragged me to the bed where he sat and cradled me in his arms.

He never stopped talking to me, soothing me, telling me it was over. He held my head to his chest and I could feel his heart. For the first time I started to sob. My chest convulsed as my lungs, starved for hours by the constricted position I'd been in, tried to take in too much air at once. I could barely move my arms, but my fingers clutched at Joe, making sure he was real and not some hallucination.

The rest of the room faded as I tried to concentrate on the man who was holding me. Over and over he repeated his mantra: I was safe, he wouldn't leave, I wasn't alone. 

Neither of us saw the look that Kevin gave Beau or the nod that answered him. Neither of us saw the way the other men in the room avoided looking at us, giving us time together that they were sure we needed. 

There was a scuffle in the corner of the room. Elliot, in a burst of desperation, tried to use the knife he'd been holding when my friends had entered the room. It gave Abdul the opportunity he'd wanted. His huge fist shot out and in one blow he shattered Elliot's jaw. He would have finished the job, but the cop put his hand on his arm.

"Thanks, but I think you got him." 

"I don't know about that," Ab argued, "he still looks dangerous to me." 

Both men looked down at Elliot who was cowering on the floor. The detective looked sideways at Abdul who shrugged and reluctantly moved away, out of the range of temptation.

Beau took over as guard while Bob the cop went in search of a phone. A few minutes later Bob was back. He said the police were on their way along with an ambulance.

"I want to get Mike out of this room." Joe spoke to the others for the first time since he'd seen me. 

Abdul and Kevin came over to help him, but he shrugged them away. He held me tightly in his arms, and carried me out of the room. Somewhere in my scrambled brain, a memory stirred.

"I'm sorry," I croaked into his ear.

"This wasn't your fault," Joe responded fiercely.

"No, not about that." I started to laugh and then shuddered as the pain hit me again. "You were right-I didn't think you could do it. Carry me, that is."

Joe looked down at me, puzzled. Then his own memory kicked in, and he knew I was talking about the first night we met. He smiled tightly and gripped me harder.

He made it to the living room and sat down on the couch with me still draped on his lap. There was an afghan and he put it around me. He pulled me closer and I felt the heat from him start to seep into my bones. Suddenly I felt exhausted, as if I'd been up for days.

"I knew you'd come," I whispered. 

I felt him tense up. My hair, tangled and damp with sweat, had fallen over my face. I felt Joe's hand reach up and smooth it behind my ear.

"When are you going to break down and cut this mess?" His voice was gruff, but his hand continued to stroke my head that was resting on his shoulder.

Neither of us said anymore. I drifted in and out of consciousness. I heard distant voices and sirens, and then someone was trying to separate me from Joe. I resisted until he whispered it was okay, I was safe now, and that he wouldn't leave me. It was only the last part that convinced me to finally relax my grip. 

I was loaded onto a gurney and taken out to the waiting ambulance. Joe walked beside me, talking to me the whole time. When he jumped into the back of the van with me, someone started to protest, but I heard Kevin's voice and the objections ended. Joe sat beside me and told me to hold his hand and squeeze tight when the bumps in the road got too much for me.

The ride seemed to take forever, and I drifted in and out of consciousness. When we got to the hospital, Joe finally had to stay back. I saw him looking after me as they whisked me into the emergency room. As I watched, Betsy ran up to him and grabbed his arm. I tried to lift my hand, but there was something wrong with my shoulders and I didn't quite manage it. 

In spite of my pain and exhaustion, I couldn't help but recognize the deja vu quality of this whole scenario. It had been a little over three years since Joe and I had acted this out before. Then, it had brought about the beginning of our friendship; now, I had a feeling as I thought of him with Betsy, it might well mark the end of it. Not good thoughts.

Funny, but the whole time I was in that room with Elliot, I'd seemed to have forgotten Joe's telling me he'd be leaving. Now it came back to me with a rush of pain that had nothing to do with what I'd just gone through. Tears leaked out of the corners of my eyes and the young intern who was examining me misunderstood and ordered some pain medication. He didn't realize where I hurt couldn't be numbed by a narcotic. 

The next couple hours are something I'd rather forget, so I'm not going to tell you the details of the further indignities that were inflicted on me. It's enough to say that it hurt like hell and was incredibly humiliating to boot. When they were finally done, poking, prodding, x-raying and stitching me, they admitted me to a room.

It was a private, which sort of surprised me, but I was in no condition, nor was I inclined, to question it. Although I was full of painkillers, I hadn't slept since I'd been on that couch in Joe's arms. I was exhausted, but I wasn't sure I wanted to chance sleep. The possibilities of what awaited me in my dreams scared the Hell out of me. 

I closed my eyes and tried to relax. I heard the door swing open, but I didn't have the energy to look and see who it was. A hand reached down and grabbed mine. I squeezed reflexively. 

"Hey Mike," Kevin said. "How're you doing?"

I opened my eyes and saw him smiling down at me. Joe stood beside him. He was trying to smile too, but he wasn't as successful as Kevin. 

"I've been better," I croaked.

"I believe that," Kevin grimaced.  He looked around and found a chair and pulled it up next to me. 

Joe just stood there. He was taking in the contraption they had me in and all the tubes and bandages I was sporting. He swallowed hard like he was trying to get enough saliva in his mouth to speak.

"Hi," was all he finally managed.

"Hi, yourself," I whispered.

"They, uh... have you in a Stryker," he continued.

"Is that what it's called?"

Joe nodded. "That's what you're lying on anyway. The frame is a circle bed. They use this a lot with patients with pressure spots-that's bed sores to you-or for orthopedic cases. That's why there's a hole cut out in the mattress and the circle can turn so they can flip you onto another one without pulling on you."

The nurses had already explained all this to me and why I was in this strange bed. Elliot's first slash on my ass had been a lulu: it had taken a couple hundred stitches and had been a complicated closure because the cut was incredibly deep.  It was a miracle he hadn't severed more nerves and muscles than he had.  Apparently it had something to do with the angle of his swing, something I guess I had to be grateful for.  Even so, the wound would have been excruciating to lie on, plus that could have hindered the healing process. But I couldn't lie on my stomach, either, because one of Elliot's little toys, or maybe his fists, had bruised the hell out of my testicles. This bed had been their only option.

Still, I let Joe explain it all to me again. It seemed to put him at ease; talking about the medical equipment was something he was familiar with doing from his orderly days. He finally finished, looked around, found another chair and pulled it up on the right, the opposite side from Kevin. He sat back and relaxed, but stiffened at Kevin's next sentence.




The Human Condition Ch. 07



"Do you want to talk about it?"

I twisted my head to look at Kevin. He raised his eyebrows and cocked his head. I thought he was going to make a very good therapist. 

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Joe protested, and I could hear the tension in his voice.

"What happened to Elliot?" I decided to take the middle road.

"After they wired his jaw, he was admitted into the forensic unit at Ypsillanti." Kevin offered. "They'll arraign him this afternoon."

I barely took in what he was saying. I was too busy watching Joe as he stood abruptly and went to the window and stared at the view of that parking lot as if it had all the appeal of the Grand Canyon. It was obvious he wanted to be anywhere but in this room, talking about this subject.

"Mike," Kevin squeezed my hand, bringing me back to the conversation, "there's something you should know..."

"Oh, Jesus!"  Joe hissed. "Do you think he has to know about this now?"  He didn't turn around, but I noticed his hands griping the window sash, the knuckles white from the effort. 

I turned and looked at Kevin's face. He'd stopped talking, but his eyes asked me if he should go on and I nodded. However bad the news was, I had to know.

Kevin took a deep breath. "The police did a search of the cabin. They found... well, some things. Apparently you weren't Elliot's first victim. It looks like he had a habit of picking up guys and bringing them back there. Then, he'd beat the shit out of them. A few times it was consensual, but most of the time it looks as if the men had no idea what they were getting into."

Joe made a choking noise at the window. Kevin looked up at him, his eyes narrowing as he thought for a minute. It was as apparent to him as it was to me that Joe was ready to explode. Kevin looked back down at me.

"Get him out of here," he mouthed silently.

He was right, Joe needed to leave, but it took my sluggish brain a little time to process why Kevin didn't tell him to get out. Then it hit me. If Kevin did that, Joe would just get pissed.

"Joe," I croaked. "I'm really dry. Could you go get me a Coke or something?"

That should get him out of the room for a couple of minutes at least. He'd have to find a nurse to get him a can.

"That sounds good," Kevin agreed. "Get me one too, okay?"

That was even better, since the sodas at the nurse's stations were for patients only. He'd have to go to the visitor's center on the second floor for Kevin's pop.

Joe turned and looked at us with raised eyebrows. It was obvious he figured out our little ruse, but he didn't say anything, just shrugged and made his way to the door. There he turned and looked back at us.

"I'm going to make some phone calls while I'm out. I'll be back in about twenty minutes, okay?"

"Great," Kevin said.

He left and Kevin sat back in his chair with a sigh of relief. I didn't realize until that moment how much tension Joe had brought into the room. 

"Do you want the scoop, or are you just going to stare at that door until Joe comes back?" 

I jerked my eyes back in Kevin's direction. If he saw the red rushing to my cheeks, he ignored it. I quickly realized that I was going to have to be more careful in the future if I didn't want him, or any of my other perceptive friends, to figure out how I really felt about Joe.

"So how are you really feeling?" he asked gently.

I winced. "Like I had a softball bat rammed up my ass."

"Pretty close to what happened," Kevin agreed.

"And then it feels like he took the damn thing and beat me with it."

"Yeah, well..." He smiled sympathetically.

"The doctors told me I was lucky," I tried, but I couldn't keep the irony out of my voice. "My left shoulder is separated, and I have a couple hundred stitches on the left side of my butt and a couple of small anal tears, but other than that I'm okay."

"I know. The doctor came and talked with us."

Kevin leaned forward in his chair and grabbed my hand again. His face was serious and I knew whatever he was going to say next was not going to be pleasant.

"You are lucky, Mike. That's what I wanted to tell you. You're gonna find out anyway. Elliot made some tapes. Some of the other guys, well... The police don't think they were so lucky."

I thought about that for a minute. I had no problem believing him though; I'd seen the look in Elliot's eyes when he'd been holding that knife.

I shook the memory away with a shudder. "He was going to kill me, Kevin. If you guys had gotten there 5 minutes later, I'd be dead."

"He's a sick fuck."

"Yeah, I know that now. I just don't know why I didn't figure it out in the first place," I said, shaking my head.

"Oh, do not go there!" Kevin tightened his grip on my hand, making me wince. "You are not at fault! Elliot is. He's the asshole-remember that. Nobody else."

"But if I hadn't gone with him," I argued, "If I hadn't been pissed off at Cam and acted like a spoiled brat, none of this would've happened! You weren't there. I didn't just lead Elliot on-I told him I'd fuck him!"

Kevin rolled his eyes. "That's irrelevant and you know it."

Most of me knew he was right. I had changed my mind about having sex with Elliot. At worst, that should have earned me a couple of sarcastic remarks and a long, cold night of hitchhiking. Instead, I'd been tied up; beaten and-I forced myself to form the word in my mind-raped. There was no way I'd deserved any of that, and I fought desperately to hold onto that thought.

"Mike, you're going to have to deal with this, but I don't think now is the time. You need to get some rest, bud. We can talk later. I'll stay until Joe gets back, and then he'll be here until you wake up."

I nodded. My body was humming with exhaustion, and now that Kevin and Joe were here, I wasn't as worried about facing my dreams. The resources I'd called on to keep awake were all used up. I closed my eyes and started to drift.

"I never told you thank you," I murmured, already half-asleep.

Kevin grinned. "Hey, you owe me ten bucks, I had to make sure you were going to be around for me to collect."

"I knew you guys would come. I knew Joe would figure out something was wrong," my words sounded distant and slightly slurred. I wasn't even sure if I spoke or just thought the words until Kevin answered me.

"You know, I didn't believe Joe at first. Nobody did," he said. "He was like this madman, insisting you were in trouble. I think that's why we all helped at first, to appease him. I don't know what he'd have done if we hadn't found you. I always wondered, but today was the first day I realized..."

His voice faded as I slipped into sleep.


I was more or less unconscious for the next twenty-four hours. There were times when I heard voices, others when I functioned in a semi-conscious state, just long enough to drink some water or pee, but mainly I slept. It was deep and dark and still, and whatever I dreamed, I'd forgotten it all by the time I woke up.  
And when that happened, Joe was there, as Kevin had promised. 

He was sitting in a chair next to the bed and he was reading. He didn't notice I was awake and I watched him. A small frown had settled around his mouth. It was a look I was well familiar with, and I knew it meant that he was concentrating. I looked at the title of the book. It was Nabokov's 'Lolita'.

"Pervert," my mouth was so dry the word sounded like rust.

"You're awake," he said, as he put the book down and smiled.

He walked over to the bed and took the cup on the stand and fit the straw to my lips. I sipped and felt the cool water sinking into the dry tissue in my mouth. After a couple small sips he moved it back. 

"How're you feeling?"

I thought about that for a minute before answering. There was only one word to describe it. "Sore."

"Yeah. That's pretty much how you're going to feel, too, for the next couple of days."

He put the straw to my mouth again, and this time I sucked on it greedily. His hand had to hold it still, and in doing so it rested on my chin.

"You could use a shave," he said, rubbing his fingers on my stubble.

"No doubt, but I don't think I'm up to it."

Which was true. Even though technically there wasn't much wrong with my right shoulder, it still hurt too much for me to move my arm. The left was completely out of commission, as it was strapped securely to my chest.

I grinned at Joe and waited for a smart-ass comeback. I waited for him to take his hand from my face. But he was silent, and his hand stayed where it was. 

I know that most of you will think I'm an idiot when I tell you that it still didn't dawn on me what was happening. I have a good excuse: for three years I'd trained myself to think of Joe as completely off-limits. Hell, I don't think I'd even taken a good look at the guy since we were sophomores. 

Oh, I could describe every inch of him-the shape of his hands, his ears, the curve of his collar bone and ass-but I'd learned these in glimpses, my eyes sucking in the details, memorizing them in brief seconds of study. That was all I'd allow myself. I justified it at the time as my way of not making a straight boy feel uncomfortable around me. Later, I knew that was a rationalization, just another way of convincing myself that all I felt for Joe was friendship. 

So when Joe continued to brush my chin with his thumb and when his fingers uncurled to stroke my cheek, it never occurred to me to wonder why he was doing that. Besides, I was too concerned about what his touch was doing to me to take the next logical step and wonder why the hell he was doing it in the first place. 

The minute I felt the warmth of his hand, I was acutely aware of an answering warmth of my own. Neither drugs nor painful injuries were enough to override the pleasure that shot through my system. I could feel my cock throb and spring to life, and it was all I could do not to look down to see if my arousal showed through the thin blue hospital blanket. 

Oh, Jesus, I thought. If this was how it was going to be, how I'd react every time I was with him, then maybe it really was for the best that he and Betsy would be leaving town after their marriage. 

I could feel my cheeks flush and I was trying to look anywhere but at Joe.  And that isn't easy when you're flat on your back and strapped to a board.

"Mike." Joe's hand stilled, but he didn't remove it and it was all I could do to keep myself from nuzzling it. "There's something..."

Suddenly, the door slammed open and one of the nurses, a black woman with bright yellow hair, came stomping in. Joe jumped back like he'd been hit with a cattle prod, spilling what was left of the water all down my chest. 

That was enough for the nurse to order him out of the room. Joe didn't take a lot of convincing, either. He was out of there before I'd had a chance to say goodbye or wonder what it was he'd been about to say.

Whatever it was, I wasn't going to hear it anytime soon either. The next couple of days were spent in non-stop rounds of annoying tests, painful therapy, and exhausted sleep. In between, I was visited by a never-ending stream of friends. It seemed my room was always full, and that meant that Joe and I had no chance to be alone.

Which was just as well with me. I needed time to think about how I was going to deal with him, now that I realized how I really felt. But that meant being alone, and as I've already said, I wasn't getting much of that.

In fact, there were only a few times when I only had one guest. The first time was Kevin, and it was pretty apparent that he was alone by design and not chance. He was in full therapist mode, and I was shown just exactly how good he was at his chosen profession. 

He managed to get me to tell him most of what I remembered about my night with Elliot. Then he sat there and held me as I cried after the words dried up and choked me, making it difficult to breathe. When I was quiet again, he pulled a card out of his pocket and gave it to me. 

He told me it was the name of therapist; a woman, Alice Wanamaker, who had worked with a number of rape victims, and that some of them were men. When he saw my expression, he agreed that I was probably fine, but he hoped I'd indulge him and call her. Like I said, he was-and still is-a very good therapist.

The second visitor that I managed to have a tête-à-tête with was Betsy, and this happened more than once over the three additional days I spent in the hospital. It wasn't really surprising, since she worked in the ER on a rotating shift schedule. At that time she was on evenings, so she would come up on her break after all the regular visitors had been sent home. 

As I said before, I liked Betsy the more I got to know her, and she was always welcome, though I must admit, I had a hard time looking at the ring on her left hand; a new addition since I'd seen her before. The first time she came in, she noticed my staring and she stretched out her arm so I could get a better look.

"It's beautiful," I said sincerely, though the words didn't come easily to me.

She smiled. "Thanks."

"So, have you two set a date?" 

I'd tried to ask Joe this a few times already, but he always blew me off, saying we'd talk about him after I was better. He didn't seem to realize I desperately wanted to know how long he was going to be around, and I didn't have the courage to push it. I loved Joe. That knowledge was huge in my mind. I was sure anything I said or did would make it obvious. 

So in three years, our friendship had come full circle. I was once again silent because I was afraid to let him know about an integral part of my being. There was a difference though: this time, Joe was just as silent. Stupidly, I was sure he was having trouble dealing with what had happened to me. 

"May 20th," Betsy's voice penetrated my thoughts.

"What?" I'd been drifting thinking of the ring and picturing Joe's lean, long fingers slipping it on Betsy's.

"The wedding date. That's what you asked me."

"Oh, right. Sorry, it's the drugs," it was a convenient excuse. I was going to miss it when it was no longer applicable.

"I would've waited," Betsy continued. "But Joe doesn't want to."

"I know, he told me. It makes sense when you consider the move and all. It'll give you time to settle in."

Betsy looked at me with like she didn't know what I was talking about.  "Well sure, I guess," her tone told me she was humoring me. "But it's not really that big a deal. I mean it's not like we're making a big change. He still has half his stuff at my place, even though he moved back to the house."

Now it was my turn to look puzzled. "You're keeping your place?" I said incredulously, as what she was saying finally started to sink in.

"Well sure," she nodded, oblivious to what this news meant to me. "We both like it well enough, and it's convenient for both of us."

"But what about California?" I had to make sure I understood her correctly.

She looked at me curiously. "California?"

"I thought Joe said something about moving to California?"

"Yeah, I was thinking about moving back, but of course, that's changed now. There's no way I could convince Joe into leaving Ann Arbor for medical school. Maybe I can talk him into a residency out west. We'll see."

She left a few minutes later, so I don't think she noticed how much her revelation had stunned me.

Joe wasn't leaving. 

For some reason he'd decided against it, he hadn't even mentioned the possibility to Betsy. Maybe, I thought, that's what he'd been going to tell me when we'd been interrupted.

Intellectually, I knew this could make no difference to the hopelessness of my feelings about him. But that didn't stop me from grinning like a fool, every time I thought about it.

Betsy did one more late night visit before I went home. I was actually dozing when she came in. She didn't try and wake me; instead, she sat down quietly in the chair by my bed and closed her own eyes. 

Gradually I gained consciousness and realized she was sitting there. I looked at the glowing face of my watch. It was after 1 AM. I looked at Betsy surprised she was still at the hospital. Her shift ended at 11. She looked tired. She had those dark blue circles under her eyes that a child gets when they've stayed up too long past their bedtime. Her lovely hair was matted from being jammed into a surgical cap, and she looked like she lost some weight she didn't need to lose. 

She had told me several days earlier that the ER was chronically understaffed, and I knew how hard she and the other staff had to work to make up for that. Betsy was an excellent nurse. Not that I was any judge, but I'd heard that from enough people who were to know it was true. Even my own doctor had said something about it when he'd come in once when she was visiting with Joe. 

But the really important thing, as far as I was concerned, was that she was even a better person. She'd lost so much this last year, her whole family, in one way or another. Most people would have whined over the injustice or become bitter, but I knew when Betsy opened those big gray eyes she would smile, and unless you knew her very well, you'd miss the pain that was hidden behind their depths.

It suddenly occurred to me how courageous she was. No wonder Joe loved her so much. I couldn't blame him. I was half in love with her myself, and I did feel as close to her as I was to my own sister.  Maybe even more so because Sarah was still so young, but Betsy was my equal in every way.

So, no matter what my own feelings were, I couldn't be jealous of Betsy for what she had with Joe. And as lucky as she was to have him, I thought he was even luckier to have found her.

"What are you grinning at?"

I hadn't realized she was awake and looking at me. There was the expected smile, and the sight of it made me blurt out what I was thinking.

"I really love you-you know that, don't you?" I said, laughing.

"Now he tells me, after I'm already taken," she said to the ceiling.

We laughed together. "I was just thinking how great it was that my best friend and my best girl were getting married," I said.

This wasn't lip service, I meant it, but Betsy didn't have the reaction to my words that I expected. She dropped her eyes and looked down at her lap, fascinated suddenly by her hands.

"Yeah, well..."

She jerked her head up and looked back at me. I was surprised at the unhappiness I saw there.

"Mike, has Joe said anything to you? I mean, has he ever said why he wants to get married right away?"

"He's in love and he wants to get married. Makes sense to me," I tried to shrug, but it was a bad idea, and the pain that shot through my shoulders made me wince. 

"Look," said Betsy, noticing my discomfort. "This is the wrong time to be bugging you. Forget I asked."

"No sweetie, it's okay-really," I thought for a minute about what I wanted to tell her. "Joe's always had this vision," I began. "He has this whole scenario planned out in his head: the wife, the kids, the house in the suburbs. I think he watched The Brady Bunch way too much when he was little."

Betsy didn't laugh.

"Anyway," I continued. "He talks about it a lot-always has, this year especially. I think graduating has made it seem like he should be getting on with it."

"So, you think him picking me was just a matter of being at the right place at the right time," the bitterness in Betsy's voice was unmistakable.

"No, of course not!" I protested. "Joe loves you. You must know that."

"I'm not so sure..."

"Betsy..."

She raised her hand in protest. "Hear me out, Mike. Okay-I'll give you that he loves me. I'm just not sure that he's in love with me. 
It's a big difference."

On impulse I stretched out my hand, and she grabbed it, holding on, looking down at it as if it were a lifeline.

"You want to know the really awful thing?" She whispered. "I'm not sure I'm in love with Joe, either."




The Human Condition Ch. 07



"Oh, Betsy..."

A thousand things went through my head that I could have said to reassure her. I opened my mouth to speak, but the words stuck in my throat. Betsy seemed oblivious and after a moment she went on.

"We get along so well, it's as if we've always known each other. We never fight-did you know that? It's like we've already been married for twenty years -- so comfortable and safe. It's almost eerie. I mean, it would be great if it had really had been that long, but shouldn't there be more? Shouldn't that be the end of the journey and not the beginning?"

I squeezed her hand and she smiled. I noticed the tears in her eyes and she laughed embarrassedly, then brushed them away with her free hand.

"Damn," she said. "What a bitch I am. Complaining about not having fights-it's pathetic. Don't mind me."

"Hey, don't apologize," I said. "You know I'm here for you."

"Even when I don't make sense?"

"Especially then." 

We both laughed and Betsy got up to leave. I made a protesting noise, but she ignored it.

"Well, now that I've made a total fool of myself," she said as she walked by my bed, "I need to get going; Joe's waiting at my place. We have to go register at Hudson's tomorrow."

"God, he's waiting? He must be going nuts, it's almost 2 AM."

"I called him and told him I was working late and that I was going to stop up here after and check up on you. He said he was just going to bed."

"Well," I smiled. "Then I certainly don't want to keep you."
Betsy gave me a funny look I couldn't read. 

"Trust me, I don't think he minds," she muttered.

Before I could think of a response, she leaned down and kissed me goodbye. Then she gave me an extra hug.

"'Night, Mike," she turned on her heel and walked to the door and turned. She was smiling again. "Did I ever tell you I think it's a damn waste that you're gay?" 

"That all depends on your point of view," I responded and listened to her laugh all the way down the hall as the door closed behind her. 

It's always hard to sleep in a hospital. That's probably why they wake you up in the middle of the night to give you a sleeping pill. They've learned from bitter experience that an unmedicated patient can't sleep through the bells and the whispers and dull thuds that are a hospital's version of crickets and nightingales.
This was my last night. I was to be discharged in the morning and I'd refused the obligatory pill that had been offered soon after Betsy left. My excuse had been that I wanted to be alert the next day. That wasn't the real reason; I needed to think. 

If Betsy was telling the truth, and I had no reason to believe otherwise, then why had Joe proposed? It wasn't like him to settle for something less than the best. For three years now, he'd been lecturing me against doing that very thing. He was one of the last great romantics; why was he willing to play it safe now?

I tried to concentrate, but, sleeping pill or not, I was starting to drift. As I felt the darkness descend on my mind, a little thought burst out of my subconscious and tried to worm its way to the front of my brain. I opened my eyes wide as the idea grew. No. I shook my head. It was too ridiculous. I was getting punchy. I closed my eyes again, but now, I wasn't sleepy and it was hours before I lost consciousness.

The doctor didn't get around to discharging me until after 11. By that time, I was fully dressed and gingerly sitting in a wheelchair with Lucy and Betsy. Joe was waiting for us in the car, but I knew it was only a matter of time before he gave up and came in to find out what the hold up was. I was right: five minutes before I was released, he appeared. I found myself suddenly shy, and I couldn't meet his eyes. 

We finally got the go-ahead and left the room. Joe ran ahead to get the car. Lucy hauled all the junk I'd accumulated in the last four days, and Betsy wheeled me out to the elevator, which we rode to the lobby. She'd just cleared the wheels of the door when she stopped. I twisted around to look at her and found she was staring at something to our right. I turned and there stood Cam.

I hadn't heard from him since I'd been admitted. I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

"Could-could I talk to you?" He said in that deep voice that used to melt my bones. "Alone?"

My bones were pretty sturdy now. I nodded and Betsy and Lucy moved away from me; far enough to give us some privacy; but close enough for protection. 

"I called every day," he said. 

"How considerate," I was trying to be cool, but I felt anger welling up inside of me. If he had called, I'd never heard about it.

"I know you said you didn't want to see me, but when the nurses told me you were being discharged today, I took a chance."

This confused me. I'd never said I didn't want to see Cam. I was about to tell him that when he started to speak again.

"God, Mike," his voice choked. "I'm so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?"

"It wasn't your fault," I said, though a part of me believed he was right.

"I should have never let you go. I should have made you leave with me."

I shook my head. "That's bullshit, Cam. I made my own choice."

"But I should have stopped you."

"And how were you going to do that?"

We stared at each other for a long minute and it was Cam who finally dropped his eyes. "I guess that was always been our problem wasn't it?"

He was right and in saying so he gave the eulogy to our relationship. For a moment I almost wished we could try again. The moment passed. 

"I've talked to the other partners," Cam changed the subject. 
"Take as much time as you need; your job will be waiting for you."

"Thanks."

"And we agreed that if you want us to represent you in this, we'll be happy to do anything we can-pro bono, of course. You don't," he cleared his voice. "You don't have to worry. I won't be involved, you can pick any lawyer you want."

"That's very generous, but I don't know if I'll need it. The police are handling this as a criminal case. Ever since they found the bodies..."

We both had nothing to add to that one. Yesterday it had been all over the news, the police had found at least two bodies buried in shallow graves deep in the woods around Elliot's cottage. I had been very lucky indeed.

"I know, but in case it doesn't work out or you want to pursue it through a tort. Jesus, Mike, you must know that this could maybe get a small fortune if you sued his ass for violating your civil rights."

"Cam, we both know that it'd take at least five years to get this into court. I don't think I can face that idea right now. I'd just as soon put this whole thing behind me."

"I understand and I'm not pushing you to make a decision now; I just want you to think about it."

I nodded, but really, I wasn't interested. My only hope was that they'd find a nice dark cell for Elliot and forget he was in there. Not an impossibility in a state that commonly uses the "guilty but insane" verdict, and likes to give 150-year sentences as a matter of course.

"What the hell is he doing here?!"

Both Cam and I swiveled our heads to look at Joe. He was rigid with fury and his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.

"It's okay," I said, and realized I meant it. I no longer cared enough about Cam to have his presence upset me.

"No, it's not! He's not even supposed to be here. After what he's done, he doesn't deserve to be around you!" Joe started to walk towards Cam and only Lucy's tiny hand on his arm stopped him. But she couldn't stop his mouth.

"This is your goddamn fault, Montgomery! Mike may think differently, but you and I know better."

By this time, Cam was just as rigid as Joe. Two spots of color showed on his cheeks and his mouth had settled into a grim line. But he couldn't be goaded and he remained silent as Joe continued to tell him exactly what he thought of him. Several passers-by in the hallway eyed us curiously. I finally couldn't take it anymore.

"Joe, shut up," I ordered. "Go out to the car, all of you. I'll be out in a minute."

Lucy tugged on Joe's sleeve and managed to get him turned around and heading for the door. Betsy stood there for a minute, then followed reluctantly.

"I'm sorry about that," I said to Cam.

"I deserved it," he shrugged and then smiled sadly when he saw the look on my face. "I know you don't think very much of me, Mike. I wish... Well, I wish a lot of things, but you can't turn back the clock, can you?"

No, I thought wearily, you can't. I suddenly wanted this meeting to be over. Cam was a part of my past. I didn't want to think about him anymore. 

He wheeled me out to the waiting Bronco. Joe was out of the car like a flash. Cam held his ground though and leaned down until we were at face level.

"Whatever else you think, Mike, believe this: I hope that you'll be okay, and that someday you find the happiness I know you deserve." He leaned over and kissed me gently on the cheek. Then he turned and he was gone.

"The same to you, Cam," I called after him and I was surprised at how much I meant it. 

The trip home was made in stony silence. Joe was still steamed over Cam's surprise visit. Lucy and Betsy didn't seem to be inclined to say anything either. I thought I should ask Joe why he'd decided - on his own - to ban Cam from any contact with me. But the truth was, I didn't care. The lack of sleep was catching up to me, and I was having a hard time staying awake.

It had been decided that I would spend the next few days with Lucy. I'd made token protests at this arrangement, but really I was more than willing to capitulate. I wasn't ready to be alone. There were still a few dark shadows in my nights that I'd rather not face by myself. I just needed some time, I told myself. What had happened had been a fluke, and I was determined it wasn't going to effect my life.

We pulled into the driveway and Joe helped me into the house. I'd been walking for a couple of days, but I was stiff and sore all over, and the stitches in my ass pulled with every move I made. I was relieved when we finally got upstairs to the bedroom Lucy had prepared. Joe unbuttoned my shirt, but I insisted I could do the rest myself and he left me to it. I was almost immediately sorry I'd been so independent. By the time I finished getting out of my clothes I was soaked in sweat, and it was all I could do to crawl into bed, where I fell asleep instantly.

It was late afternoon by the time I awoke. The sun was in my eyes and I squinted and groaned.

"He lives!" Lucy was sitting in a chair by the window, but now she got up and grabbed some pills off the nightstand.

"What are they?" I asked warily. I didn't want another pain pill; it'd just make me sleep more, and then I'd be up all night.

"Antibiotics," she said, thrusting them at me. "Swallow."

I obeyed and she continued to talk. "Do you want to rest more or do you want to eat?"

I was famished. "Eat." 

"Good," she sounded pleased. "I'll go fix you something. What would you like?"

"Surprise me."

She zipped off and I dozed again while she was gone. I assume it was just a few minutes later when she came back with a big bowl of cottage cheese, another of apple sauce, two cups of steaming mushroom soup, and a large glass of Vernor's Ginger Ale, a taste she knew I'd acquired since moving to Michigan. 

The Vernor's was welcome but the rest looked bland and uninteresting. Then I remembered how even bland food hurt like hell when it worked it's way out of my sore bum and I thought better of complaining. Lucy helped herself to a mug of soup and sat at the foot of my bed.

"Soft foods for a week," she said shortly.

"Mmmm-looks great, but I can't eat all this," I said, then I dug in and made a liar out of myself as gobbled it all down.

"You're a mess."

"Thank you," I responded ironically.

"You need a wash and a shave, and your hair is dirty."

I sighed sarcastically. "I'm afraid I'm not exactly in a position to take care of that right now."

She nodded. "Joe's coming back. Maybe he can help."

"Couldn't this wait until tomorrow?" I was almost whining. I didn't feel up to a beauty treatment. "I'm sure by then I'll feel better..."

"You'll feel better when you're clean."

I gave up. Occasionally Lucy would let me win one when we bickered, but I didn't think this was going to be one of those times. 

She took my silence for capitulation and gathered up the dishes and left. I drifted again until I felt Joe gently shaking me.

"Wake up sleepyhead. Time to get gorgeous."

"Fuck off," I said, yawning.

"Is that anyway to talk to Mr. Joseph, your own personal guide to a better you? 
Come on, get your ass out of bed."

I pissed and moaned for a while, but finally obeyed. Joe grabbed my bathrobe, which had somehow materialized and was lying at the foot of the bed. Lucy must have raided my apartment for things she thought I'd need. He wrapped the robe around me awkwardly, since my arm was still strapped to my chest, then led my tottering body down the hall to the huge, old-fashioned bathroom.

It was the first time I'd ever been in Lucy's upstairs john, and I looked around in awe. Old-fashioned it might be, but that didn't mean it didn't have just about everything you could ever want in a bathroom.

The toilet was elevated like a throne, and directly beside it was a bidet. The sink was a single, but the bowl was almost big enough to take a bath in - not that you'd ever need to. There was a huge marble tub completely surrounded by mahogany paneling. The thing must have been 8 feet long and at least 4 or 5 feet wide. There was no shower, but the tub did have one of those old-fashioned metal hose thingies with a brass nozzle that looked like a phone.

Joe whistled softly as he looked around. Then he walked over to the tub and turned on the water. It let loose with a roar. No water pressure problems there. He turned it on and off a few times just to make sure, then he shut it off and turned to me with a big grin on his face.

"This is great! I could live in this room," he enthused, then he turned to me. "Okay, dude-strip."

Uh-oh. For the first time it occurred to my sleep soaked brain, that Joe was actually planning on washing me. All of me. 

I shook my head. "Look, you don't have to help. I can do this myself."

"Yeah, right," he said, frowning. He wasn't buying it.
"No, really, it's okay," I smiled and swiveled my hips to show how limber I was, 
then bit my lip to keep from groaning at the pain.

He raised an eyebrow. "I don't believe you."

I didn't care what he believed, I only knew there was no way I was going to give him the opportunity to see how much I really liked him. Already my treacherous cock was waking up to the possibilities. No way was I going to stand nude in front of Joe with a hard-on. I looked up to see him staring down at the bulge that was starting to form through the terrycloth robe. Shit.

"Okay, listen," Joe was talking to the wall behind me, his face red. "Why don't you go ahead and do whatever you can and I'll come back in later when you need me."

"Sounds good," I muttered and felt my cheeks flame, too.

I won't say he ran from the room, but it was close. The idea that had kept me awake the night before tried to take over my mind again, but I beat it back. I walked to the sink and picked up the clean washcloth that Lucy had laid out for me. I couldn't even cheat and soak the dirt off in the tub. I couldn't get my stitches wet. Oh well, might as well get it over with. I wet the cloth and started to scrub. 

It worked, sort of. At least the pain made my dick think twice about waking up. I struggled to reach all my cracks and crevices; no easy task, but I was determined. The more I washed, the less that was left for Joe. Finally, though, I had to admit to one defeat: there was no way I could raise my hand to wash my hair. 

Somehow, I got my robe back around me and stuck my head out the door. Joe was sitting on the floor in the hall. He appeared mesmerized by a spot on the far wall.

"Mr. Joseph," I said softly and watched as he jumped at the sound of my voice.

"Whatcha need?"

"My hair washed."

He grinned. "Ah-the house specialty."

He got up and walked into the bathroom with me. It took a few minutes to work up a strategy, but we finally settled on me on my knees leaning over the tub, with Joe beside me. He reached over my tipped head and grabbed the hose. 

"We're going to have to do something about the robe," he said softly. "It'll get wet otherwise."

"Uh, okay," I said. Actually, it wasn't okay at all, but I didn't see where I had any choice. 

I felt him pull the robe down and then helped him slip my good arm out of the sleeve. He bunched the material at my waist. I almost sighed in relief. My fantasies might have included a scene or two with me pointing my bare ass in Joe's direction, but not like this.

"Here we go." 

Joe gently pushed my head farther down and leaned over me to rinse my hair. His body felt warm and hard, and I had to resist arching back into it.

"Oh, shit!" He muttered.

"What?" I turned my head to look at him.

"I'm getting all wet," he answered, and I relaxed. "Here, just a minute."

Joe dropped the sprayer and sat back on his heels. I turned my head and watched as he stripped off his sweatshirt and the shirt beneath it. My heart did a little flip of glee as I saw his muscular torso come into view. Joe spent a lot of time in the weight room, and it showed. He wasn't ready for the Mr. Universe Pageant, but he definitely had a solid, defined body. I'd seen it before, of course, but not since I'd faced my true feelings about the guy. It certainly put a different perspective on my viewing.

"Lean over the tub," he said quietly.

He grabbed the nozzle again and started to wet my hair. At least I supposed he did; I wasn't paying much attention. All I could think about was the hot skin that was rubbing against my back. Joe had reached across me so that his hands were straddling my head. In order to do that, he practically had to lay across me. I could feel hard nipples rake my back and the pounding of his heart as reached he for the shampoo. My cock stood at attention under the folds of the robe, and I wondered if it was wishful thinking that made me believe there was an answering bulge that occasionally seemed to brush against my hip.

"Turn around," Joe's voice was husky and low.

I turned and sat back on my heels. He reached towards me and poured a big slurp of shampoo on my head. We faced each other as he started to massage the lather into my scalp. We were both breathing like we'd just been through some huge physical ordeal-which, in a way, was true, if I was honest about it.

Part of me still wanted to deny what was happening. It may not be a great feeling to be involved in unrequited love, but at had the appeal of familiarity. The possibility that Joe wasn't as immune to my charms as I'd thought was mind-boggling. I had no idea what was going to happen next, and I wasn't even sure what I was hoping for.

Joe's hands stilled and he drew away from me a little. I continued to look down at the floor between us.

"Are you okay?" Joe broke the silence.

I looked at him. There was compassion in his gaze and caring. There might have been more, but I dropped my eyes. Oh God, who'd have thought a shampoo, could be so dangerous to your health?

"I mean... with what happened?" he continued.

This wasn't exactly what I'd been expecting, but I was kind of glad for the diversion. I nodded and then realized he expected a verbal response.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I barely think about it."

It was the truth. I was amazingly calm about my encounter with Elliot. It was almost like it had happened to someone else; like it was a bad movie I'd only seen and not actually starred in. The physical pain was my only reminder, and I could brush that off for the most part. It wasn't, after all, like I was going to have any permanent damage. All in all, I was pretty pleased with myself.




The Human Condition Ch. 09



Joe wasn't in the bedroom when I went to look for him after I said goodbye to Sarah. But then, neither were the clothes I'd laid out on the bed, so I wasn't too worried.

I found him in the kitchen scrambling some eggs; there were mushrooms grilling in another pan and fresh sliced tomatoes on the butcher block. The bread was already in the toaster waiting for someone to push down the lever. I did the honors and then went to Joe and leaned over his shoulder and sniffed appreciatively.

"Are those for me?" I asked hopefully.

He snorted. "As if you didn't already know."

Which was true. I was truly a lousy cook. And if left to my own, I'd probably make do with cold Pop Tarts and a pot of coffee. Ever since I'd known him, Joe had ridden my ass about my eating habits, and eventually he'd figured out the only way to change them was to cook the meals himself.

He'd already set the table and I went over to it and poured two glasses of grapefruit juice out of the pitcher. Then I sat and anxiously waited for him, like a little kid whose last meal was about two weeks ago.

"Quit squirming," he said without looking around. "It's almost ready."

"But I'm starving!" I whined.

"I'd have thought the 'protein snack' you had earlier would've satisfied your appetite," he teased back.

"Babe, if anything, all it did was whet it for more." I gave him my best leer, which just made him laugh.

He split the eggs onto two plates and added sauted mushrooms and sliced tomatoes to them. Then with a flourish, he popped up the toast and expertly spread marmalade on each slice. He walked over to the table with a plate in each hand and gave one to me. He put the other one in front of his chair, but before he could sit I drew him to me and rested my face on his belly.

"You spoil me," I murmured as I took in his scent, which gave off an aroma better to me than any food known to man.

Joe stroked my hair. "I think you got that backwards, sweetie." He leaned down and kissed the top of my head, then grinned. "In fact," he said, "I think you're the best little wife a guy could ever hope for."

He looked down at my legs that stuck out from my shorts. They were pretty well muscled, because he insisted on dragging me out to the track to run three times a week, but I was in desperate need of some sun. The dark hair covering them was in stark contrast to the white skin. 

"But Darlin'," he laughed, "if you're thinking about that sex change operation again, I would think again - 'cause you just don't have the legs for it."

One of those ugly legs of mine kicked him in the butt as he turned to his chair across from me, but it was just a reflex. This was an old joke of ours - the kind all couples share when they've spent as much time together as we have.

Joe had always kidded me about being his wife. It didn't bother me, and I've been known to refer to him as 'the old ball and chain' a few times myself. 

The truth was, like most gay couples, we didn't really have the kind of relationship where one of us took on the wife role and one the husband. Through the years, we'd just developed a pattern where we chose to do what felt best for us, and didn't worry about that kind of crap. We rarely bothered with titles, either, although the times when we had to describe our relationship to someone, we both seemed to use the word 'partner.'

But in the truest sense, Joe was my husband and my wife, and I was his. Mind you, we may not have been able to get a piece of paper from the state of Illinois that agreed with that assessment, but it didn't make it any less true. We were a family to each other.

It had taken us a while to see that though. Joe had always planned on something much different for himself, where I'd never planned on anything at all. Sometimes I think it was a miracle we ever got to where we are now. And Joe? Well Joe was even more confused than I was...

June 9, 1989

It was a few days after my folks and Sarah left and I'd just walked into my apartment after slaving at the law firm all day. But I'm exaggerating here a bit. I worked hard, sure, but I also loved it, so it wasn't exactly a sacrifice. That day though, I was beat. My energy levels still weren't up to what they had been, and so I was really looking forward to just vegging out on the couch and maybe calling out for pizza if I couldn't scare anything up out of the fridge.

I'd forgotten I was supposed to go over to Kevin and Saul's for dinner that night. If Saul hadn't called and left a message on my machine, I'd have probably never made it. As it was, I just had time for a quick shower before I was supposed to be there.

I made it - just barely. I knocked on the door of the two-story townhouse they shared and waited. There were voices coming from the apartment and I couldn't help hearing what they were saying.

"Oh Baby! Yeah! Stick that big rod in me! Yeah! Do it! Do it! Do it!"

I gulped. Maybe it would have been better if I had gotten Saul's message too late.

Before I could sneak away, the door opened and Kevin stood in front of me - fully clothed, thank God. "Hey, you made it," he said, grinning from ear to ear.

The noise from inside the apartment was louder, now that the door was opened. "Right there! Oh yeah! Harder, do me harder!"

I felt my face burn with embarrassment.

Kevin frowned and turned towards the living room. "Jesus, Saul," he snapped. "Can you please turn that shit down!" He waited until the sound decreased until only an occasional moan was heard.

"Come on in," he stepped back to allow me to pass. "Sorry about that. Saul went shopping today."

He didn't have to say any more. Saul was famous for his huge collection of porno tapes. He also had a gigantic collection of 1950's monster flicks and the world's most complete set of Disco records I'd ever seen; but it was the porn that had made his reputation.

He had movies from the bootlegs of old Hollywood right up to the new made-for-video numbers. To Saul's constant disappointment, Kevin had never been very impressed with his repertoire. He always argued he'd rather actually have sex than just watch it, and he'd bitch that the space the tapes took up could certainly be put to better use. Of course, most of his bitching was just a way to torment Saul. Kevin had once admitted to me over one too many shots of tequila that some of the tricks Saul had picked up from his little hobby were well worth the price of admission. 

The closet door was open now as we headed into the living room. Saul was sitting cross-legged on the floor and sorting a pile of tapes that lay next to him. It had been a scorcher of a day, and he was wearing shorts and a baggy tee. He had a great body and normally Kevin would've been making some comment about how lucky he was to have such a cute boyfriend, but he just sighed.

"Christ, what have you done now?"

Saul swiveled his head and smiled, "Hey Mikey, how goes it?" He jumped up and gave me a kiss. "And you," he poked Kevin in the chest, "quit bein' such a bitch! We have company."

"My point exactly," Kevin complained, waving his hands helplessly at the huge pile of tapes on the floor. "Look at this mess!"

"Oh, relax! I'll clean it up, Hon'." Saul stood on tiptoe and gave Kevin a kiss on the nose. "I had to do it, there wasn't anymore room on the L shelf for my new Jack Lofton." He closed his eyes and sighed. "God is that guy hung!"

"And this one," he said as he pulled out a tape labeled LA Tool and Die. "This one's unbelievably hot - it's a classic, too, and hard to find. It's part of Joe Gage's Working Man Trilogy, the third one actually. Not as famous as El Paso Wrecking Corp, or a groundbreaker like some of Matt Sterling's classics, but a great flick none the less."

I just stared at him open-mouthed. "I think you're scaring me."

He laughed and handed me the tape. "You'll see. We'll pop this baby in after dinner."

I smiled and shrugged noncommittally. I wasn't really wild about the idea. We'd had movie nights before, the three of us, and it had always ended up with one or all having to go to the bathroom for the Kleenex. But that didn't hold any appeal for me tonight. I was still having some issues about sex, and even something as innocuous as watching Saul stick his hand down his pants was a little nerve-wracking to contemplate.

"Or maybe not," Kevin winked at me. "Let's see if we can at least pretend that we're grownups here. And not just a bunch a horn-ball gay guys with sex on the brain. In fact, I thought it might be nice if maybe after dinner we went down to the basement and played some pool."

That sounded like a plan to me. Saul had bought Kevin an old pool table for his last birthday, and although the table was pretty beat-up, it still worked - even if they did have to keep a book under one leg to keep the thing level. They'd been breaking it in a lot these last few months.

"Oh wait," Saul said, as he reached down to rummage in his pile of tapes. I couldn't help but notice how his tight shorts rode up on his ass as he bent over. Jesus, I thought to myself, as I dragged my eyes from his butt. Get a grip, Mike! 

Saul found the tape he was looking for and stood and triumphantly waved it in the air. "If you wanna see how to really play pool, you should see this."

"We don't want to see pool, baby - we want to play it!" Kevin chortled, then shook his head. "Jesus, what did I ever do to deserve a voyeur for a lover?"

"Nothing," Saul replied, as he put the tape in the player and turned to him and gave him a bear hug. "You just got lucky is all."

Kevin grinned and wrapped his arms around him. "I guess I did at that."

I watched them play tonsil hockey for a minute before clearing my throat. "Uh, guys," I said. "You want me to take a walk for 20 minutes or so?"

Kevin pulled his lips from Saul's and chuckled. "Trust me, it wouldn't be for only 20 minutes if we did - but we don't. And, besides, dinner's almost ready. I better go check on it." He slapped Saul on his ass and walked out of the room.

Saul's eyes followed him until he was out of sight, then he turned back to me. "God," he sighed. "It's good to be back home. I really missed that tall bastard, you know?"

I smiled and tried to ignore the pang I felt when he said that - because of course I knew exactly what he meant, only the tall bastard that I missed wasn't home yet, and I was beginning to wonder if he ever would be. Jesus, I thought. I wish I knew what was going on in that pretty head of Joe's.

The movie that Saul had popped into the player started, and the title popped on the screen: "Bigger Than Life." I really, really was not in the mood. 

He seemed to sense this and said. "Lemme fast-forward here to the pool table scene. Really, you gotta see this - it's a hoot!"

He started to share some gossip he'd heard about a mutual friend. I was listening, but out of the corner of my eye I kept catching glimpses of round hard butts and lots of sweaty skin. It was... distracting. I'd force myself to concentrate on Saul, but every few minutes I'd realize that I was back to the fast-forward motions of beautiful bodies engaged in sex. And if I could tell they were beautiful even at this speed, then they had to be hot.

Fortunately, Saul didn't seem to notice that I was basically ignoring him. He chattered on about one thing and another until Kevin stuck his head in the living room and announced that dinner was ready.

I took a glance around. They had a really nice apartment - cozy, comfortable, and - thanks to Saul's doting Mama - decorated like a real home. When they'd first moved in together, she'd insisted on "doing" the whole place. Kevin had wanted to refuse, but even he couldn't stand up to that woman's wheedling, and he finally capitulated. I had to hand it to her, though - she had excellent taste. The rooms were masculine, yet not sterile. I couldn't help but wonder what she thought of the closet, though.

One of the best things about the place was it had a real dining room where you could stretch out and eat like a grown-up instead of balancing plates in your lap and sitting on the floor, like we had to do at most of my friends' tiny apartments. Even my luxury of a real kitchen table and chairs at my place couldn't compete with the bamboo and glass wonders that sat in Kevin and Saul's eating area. 

There was something else in the dining room, too. I immediately rolled my eyes and groaned, and Saul laughed when he saw me.

"Hey, we knew you wouldn't bring a date, so we decided to provide one free of charge," he said as he clapped me on the back. "Cause that's just the kind of caring, considerate friends we are."

My "date," as he'd put it, was sitting across the table from what was obviously my chair. It was a life-size wooden mannequin, one of those puppet things with joints and no face, but definitely male. Kevin had picked him up in some trash bin in back of a clothing store one night after the bars had closed. He was promptly christened "Bruce," and he'd been a fixture at parties at their house ever since, although usually he lived at the runaway teen shelter that Kevin ran.

The kids loved Bruce and they were always posing him and making up stories about his latest sexcapades. Kevin said it was a good outlet and he pretty much let them do whatever they pleased with the dummy. So it wasn't uncommon to walk into the weight room and see Bruce on the treadmill, or to see a couple boys watching TV with Bruce tucked in between them, holding the bowl of popcorn. They even had a wardrobe for him, and he was always dressed for the right occasion. 

You'd have thought that these kids might have been rough or obscene with the wooden boy, but they were surprisingly protective of their mascot, and although they had no problem with the time that one of the kids posed him suggestively over the arm of the couch and pulled his pants down to show his skinny wooden butt, they would've kicked the hell out of anybody who'd tried to actually destroy or deface him.

Tonight, Bruce was in his at-home attire of skimpy running shorts and a practice football jersey, which had been cut off at the nipples that someone had so thoughtfully drawn on his torso. I noticed he had acquired a new wig, long and straight and blond, which made him look almost like Pinocchio's wet dream surfer boy. Through the glass table I could see he was complete with running shoes and...

I looked over at where Kevin had just joined Saul. "What the fuck?" I sputtered.

They both started to laugh. "Isn't it great!" Kevin said as he pointed.

What he was pointing at was another addition since I'd last been there. Bruce had always been sadly lacking in the anatomical department, but now it looked like he might finally be getting his wish to be a real boy. There was a decided bulge at his groin and something suspicious was poking at the hem of the shorts.

"One of the kids at the shelter likes woodworking," Kevin continued. "He learned a lot from his dad before he got kicked out for getting caught with the neighbor kid." He shrugged; the story was too common for him to make any issue of it. "Anyway, we had all those tools donated last year and this kid volunteered to set up the workshop. He made us this for Bruce."

He walked around to the mannequin and pulled him out of the chair and unceremoniously yanked down his shorts. There in all its glory was a perfectly-proportioned cock and balls, exquisitely carved and detailed enough to tell me that the kid who'd made this was really enthusiastic about his subject matter.

"It even has a hinge," Kevin said, as he grabbed the wooden shaft and cranked it up until a click was heard.

"Jesus," I said, rolling my eyes. "Wouldn't some new bookshelves have been more practical?"

"Aw, I think it was sweet," Kevin replied, as he pushed a spring under the balls and the dick collapsed back down. Then he pulled up Bruce's shorts and sat him down in his original seat, and clapped his hands. "Let's eat!"

Dinner was great. Kevin really liked to cook, and I really liked to eat, so we always got along great over a dinner table. We didn't talk about much of anything until near the end of the meal when Saul suddenly slapped himself and said, "Shit, I forgot about stopping the tape! Now I'll have to start all over to find that scene."

Kevin snorted and looked at me. "You'll have to forgive him. He's got this incredible idea in his head that all sex movies aren't alike."

"They aren't!" Saul protested. 

"Oh, puh-leeze!" Kevin snapped, shaking his head. 

"For instance, one of the new ones is a spy flick," Saul said to me, ignoring Kevin.

Kevin apparently thought two could play at that game and also addressed his next comment to me. "Which translates to, the main character has a pair of binoculars to watch all his neighbors strip." 

"Ha-fucking-ha," Saul griped good-naturedly.

I started to laugh, "Geez, you two sound just like my parents! True, they don't generally bitch about fuck films, but the theory's the same."

A timer went off in the kitchen and Kevin jumped to his feet. "I made chocolate brownies for desert, and there's Haagen-Dazs French vanilla to go with it."

"Yum," I said, my mouth watering. Chocolate brownies were my favorite, as Kevin well knew.

He left the room leaving Saul and me alone together. Saul looked at me and frowned. "You know, he's wrong."

"About what?" I asked, perplexed. 

"About the porno! Some of it really is pretty good."

I laughed. "Get a grip, Saul. He's only teasing you to get your goat. And besides, you gotta admit he has a point. I haven't exactly seen any triple-X rated films up for any Academy Awards lately."

"Oh, hell no! I don't mean they have good plots. I just mean they aren't all the same."

"I agree," I teased. "Some fuck standing up, and some laying down"

"Aw, shit! You're as bad as Kevin," he said, exasperatedly. "Here, I'll prove it to you." He jogged out through the doorway.

"Saul..." I started, but he'd already gone into the living room. I sighed and followed meekly.

I knew Saul well, and this sudden obsession about some stupid little thing wasn't exactly a new twist to his personality. Every so often, he'd get one of these ideas up his ass, and there was no diverting him until he'd proved his theory or gotten so far down the bullshit boulevard that even he couldn't figure out what his original point had been. With Saul, it was just easier to stop fighting him and let him have his way until he got it out of his system.

He'd already popped the tape in the player and was rewinding it back to the beginning. After a few moments, he hit a button and an image popped up on the screen. He was right: it actually had a plot... the stupidest goddamn plot I'd ever heard. There was this spy who had to go out and save the world from the evil mastermind who was trying to destroy the U.S. by kidnapping all the richest men in the country and turning them into mindless boy toys who looked 18 and fucked like bunnies. But he was right; it had a plot, of sorts.

Even worse than the plot, of course, was the acting. You must know what I'm talking about: that flat, toneless voice every porn star on earth seems to have. I was just about to comment about that when Kevin stuck his head in the door and told us to get our asses back to the table.

No one has to tell me twice to go eat chocolate, so I was back there in a flash and Saul followed a minute later. We turned our attention to eating, and conversation wasn't on the agenda for the next couple of minutes. The only noise was the drone of the bad actors on the movie that Saul had forgotten to stop. With our silence, it seemed even louder then it had when we'd been in the living room.

"So big boy," some robot-like voice suddenly said in the other room. "Now I know why they say you're called agent double-012."




The Human Condition Ch. 09



"And wait till it gets hard," another flat voice droned.

"Oh my God," Kevin groaned, and then he looked at me and started to grin. 

I couldn't help it. I laughed - first a chuckle, and then a full-fledged belly laugh. After a minute, Kevin joined me, and we both howled until tears rolled down our faces. Saul glared at us and sighed theatrically, but I could tell he was just jerking our chains.

"Very fucking funny," he grumbled. "Try and introduce a little culture into your lives, and this is the thanks I get!"

Of course, this just made us laugh harder. He scooped up his last spoonful of ice cream and then stood up and stormed off to the living room. But he winked at me as he left.

Kevin took a deep sigh and wiped his eyes. "Come on - I got an idea."

"What are you up to now?" I said suspiciously.

"You'll see. Just follow my lead."

It had turned into one of those goofy nights when things you'd never dream of doing suddenly made perfect sense. I shrugged and figured that it whatever Kevin had planned, it was probably at least going to be good for more laughs. We tiptoed to the door of the living room and stood there quietly, trying not to get Saul's attention. Kevin put his arms around me and I looked at him curiously. "Trust me," he mouthed.

"Hey, stud!" Kevin suddenly boomed in his own version of a porn voice. "Look at that twink on the floor's bubble butt." He nudged me and nodded to go for it.

I started to laugh, but he poked me and I managed to get back my poker face. "Wow, you are right, Lance." I said in my best porno-actor voice. Kevin stared at me, but I ignored him as I tried to get into character. "He sure is one hot dude. Man, I'd really like to fuck that tight ass."

"Then go for it, Dick!" 

I almost lost it again and Kevin tightened his hand on my back as a warning.

"Plow him with that big blade of yours," continued Kevin.

"Okay, Lance," I said cheerfully. "And while I do, you can suck that juicy cock I see bulging in those tight shorts."

Now the moment we'd started speaking, Saul had whipped around to see us. At first he looked shocked, then horrified, but suddenly he grinned a quick evil grin and started on a role of his own.

"Hey hunks, my name is Will, as in 'Will he or won't he.' And the answer is 'yes,' if that big hard bulge in those jeans is all for me." 

Okay, I lost it then. Kevin was practically holding me up; as I laughed so hard I almost stopped breathing. He and Saul were made of tougher stuff though. They grinned, but they immediately got back into character. Kevin practically dragged my laughing ass over to the couch where Saul now waited, and then he pushed me towards him.

I landed in a sitting position and Saul sank to his knees and pushed my legs wide open. I immediately stopped laughing and stared at him, totally confused. Kevin leaned over and whispered in my ear. "Tell him to take it out."

"What? No," I protested. I immediately tried to close my legs, but Saul was firmly planted between them.

He was grinning and licking his lips lewdly, but when he saw the look on my face, his smile faded. He looked behind me to where Kevin was standing, then back at me. When he spoke again it was in his normal voice.

"It's okay, Mikie. Let me do this for you. Please." He leaned up and gave me a quick gentle kiss on the mouth. And then he kissed me again, this time with a little passion and my mouth opened before my brain was even aware it had given its permission.

Even while I responded, part of me was screaming that this was a bad idea. I know the popular thinking is that gay men screw everything they can get their hands on, including their friends. But that isn't true, at least not in my experience. Yes, I had slept with Kevin one night about a year and a half ago, but that had been an exception, not the rule. And I'd felt weird enough about it at the time that it had just made me believe even more that mixing sex and friendship was not the way to go.

On the other hand, that didn't mean the rest of me wasn't enjoying the hell of this. I was 21 for chrissake, sex was something I'd been used to, a lot. My body was ready for it again, even if my mind wasn't quite sure. And both Saul and Kevin were really attractive guys; even being friends with them hadn't blinded me to that. If I didn't know them already and saw them walking down the street I'd give them a second glance-and a third.

There was more though, they were right to think I'd been dreading getting back on the horse so to speak. It's one thing to think in theory that you're ready to get on with your life, quite another to actually do something about it. The thought of having the opportunity to test myself with guys who were both experienced and knew the kind of problems I'd been having was very seductive. So if two of my best friends were in the mood to offer, I didn't see how it wouldn't seem downright churlish to say no.

At any rate the decision seemed to have already been made by my body. Kevin's strong hands massaged my shoulders, and it felt so good that I knew I wasn't going anywhere, at least for the moment. Saul continued to just kiss me, always gentle, even when he finally introduced his tongue into my mouth. After the first few moments, I relaxed and began to kiss him back. Kevin was kneeling behind the couch now, so that his head was level to ours. His hands still stroked my shoulders lightly, and I felt a faint shiver of desire run down my spine.

Saul seemed to sense the change. He moved from my mouth to my neck, nipping softly on the sensitive skin. His hands, which had been resting on my chest, moved down to my waist and started to gather up the material of my tee, bunching it in his hands and pulling it up over my nipples. I tensed and Kevin leaned forward until his mouth was at my ear.

"Shh," he whispered. "Just relax and let this happen."

"I don't understand. Why are you guys doing this?" I could barely hear my words over the pounding of my heart.

"Cause we're your friends and we love you," he said simply. 

"But..."

Saul touched his fingers to my lips to silence me, then looked past me at Kevin and tilted his head to meet my eyes.

"You need this, Mikie," he said. "It's been too long. We know you've been scared of this, of your first time since..." He trailed off, but spoke again in a moment. "But we're your friends, and you don't need to be afraid with us."

My heart hammered in my chest, but I wasn't sure if it was from fear or desire. I shook my head. "I don't know if I..."

"Shh," Kevin answered as Saul was back to kissing my neck. "Whatever happens... happens. Don't worry about it. Let it go."

He gently pushed my shoulders forward and I sat up as Saul pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it casually on the floor behind him. He sat back on his heels and gently ran his hands up and down my chest, caressing my pecs. I shivered, a product of the cool air conditioning, my trepidation, and maybe a little passion.

Kevin wasn't taking any chances on me having second thoughts. He placed one hand to my jaw and gently pulled my head around, then he moved until we were face to face and kissed me. I remembered I'd kissed him like this before. It was a good memory of better, more carefree times and I relaxed as I thought about it. Again, Saul sensed my loosening up and he took advantage of it by placing his mouth over a nipple and licked it as he reached down and unbuttoned my jeans.

I sucked in my breath and arched my back. God, it did feel great. And yet part of me was still terrified. Saul spread my pants open and laid his face on my crotch. My limp shaft pulsed once and then lay there. He didn't seem to notice. He rubbed and sniffed and burrowed his nose into my groin. Kevin broke off kissing me and looked down at his lover's head in his lap.

"You know," he whispered to me. "I think if Saul ever changes his mind about being an anthropologist, he could go to France and get a job sniffing out truffles."

Saul raised his head and grinned at me. "Of course, that could only work if truffles smell like cock." He bent down and got back to work.

I laughed a little and relaxed some more. Kevin kissed me once again and soon Saul had managed to completely strip me, and somehow got out of his own clothes when I wasn't looking. When he was through, Kev let me up for air and a good look.

I'd never seen Saul naked, though sometimes, like today, he wore next to nothing. Since he'd undressed me, Saul hadn't touched my dick, but had gone back to work on my naval with a tongue that I soon realized was very talented. I stared down at the top of his head and cast my eyes lower to see what lay below it.

It was funny, but Saul looked a lot younger nude. He was well built, with broad shoulders; smooth and slightly thin without much discernable musculature, so that the delicate, sharp bones of his shoulder blades jutted out from his back. His spine though, was nestled in a valley created by muscles and swooped down to narrow hips and a great boyish ass that was round and smooth and flexed invitingly whenever he moved. He was dark-skinned and he tanned easily, even this early in the summer. The contrast of his deeply tanned back with the white skin of his ass was startling. As I was staring, he clenched his butt muscles and my cock gave another jolt of interest.

"Oh, goody," he murmured. "I think somebody is waking up."

He slid down further and wedged a hand between my legs and gently pulled on my balls. I slumped a bit to help him, and Kevin walked around to the front of the couch to watch and, I'm sure, step in where he was needed. I knew that they'd engaged in threesomes before, so I wasn't surprised that they had the moves down so smoothly. I watched as Kevin did an impromptu striptease for my enjoyment and again remembered another night when he treated me to the same show.

So this time, there were no surprise when he unveiled himself, although it still amazed me that Kevin, who looked almost skinny in clothes, was actually quite developed, with long sinewy muscles that rippled over the tops of his shoulders, abs and his long, straight thighs. He had no hair on his chest or anywhere else for that matter, except for the thick reddish blonde wedge that framed his cock.

That appendage was more than awake. I swallowed when I saw it and remember how big it had felt between my lips in our first meeting. Another surprise, because it hadn't looked very impressive the first time I'd seen it nestled in its home on that long, slim body. It's amazing how deceiving looks can be. At another time, I might have invited him back into my mouth. I wasn't quite able to take that initiative at this point, so I satisfied myself with a good visual examination instead. It was thick and hard and already gleamed with sticky precum. I licked my lips, but when Kevin, who was watching my every move, moved forward as if to offer, I dropped my eyes. He changed his course and came to my side and knelt beside me and stroked my hair.

"It's okay, sweet pea," he whispered. "We love you, Mike. We just want to make you happy." 

Saul raised his head from the inside of my thighs where he'd been torturing the sensitive skin with his tongue, and smacked his lips. "He's right, Mike. We love you like a brother," he grinned. "Well... maybe if we were brothers in Arkansas, that is." Before I had time to retort, he'd lowered his head again and this time he cut straight to the chase and took my entire, half-hard cock into his hot little mouth. I moaned at the feel of a sensation I'd barely let myself think about in such a long time.

Kevin, not to be upstaged, went into serious attack mode on my pits; a place I'd once admitted to him was one of my big erogenous zones. He raised my arms above my head and then lowered his head... sucking, tonguing, and licking sloppily until they were damp with spit and red from the scrape of his beard against my skin.

My head rolled back and I groaned again. I was still a little scared, but I was beginning to hope my fear wasn't going to last long in the game my two friends had set me up for. My cock was filling fast now as Saul swirled his tongue around the head and traced the contours of it. When he plunged it back into his mouth my hips involuntarily helped him and my arms, still raised above my head to give Kevin access, twitched with the need to join the game. When I was fully hard, Saul came off me with a sucking slurp and hooked an arm under each of my legs and, with Kevin's help, he slowly pulled me down onto the thick pile of the carpet.

I was on my back, lying flat out. Saul straddled me and I looked over his front with the same careful scrutiny I'd applied to his back. I decided if he looked like a young boy from the rear, he was certainly all man from the front. Although his back and ass were almost hairless, on this side, Saul looked like a little bear cub. Thick soft hairs swirled around in curly patterns on his groin and only narrowed at his waist where the trail widened again to coat his chest, leaving just his nipples bare of fur.

My eyes drifted back down and I really looked at his hard cock for the first time. It was straight and brown, almost as dark as the hair that surrounded it. For the first time I reached out to him, running my fingers deeply through his pelt, pulling gently at it, watching as it curled around my fingers. I luxuriated in it for a moment. I'd never been into bears, but with Saul, I could see why some guys were addicted to them. My fingers let go of the silky strands reluctantly and I trailed lightly downward until my hands found the oh-so-stiff pole that rested in a thatch of the wondrous down.

He sighed and for a moment closed his eyes. When he opened them he looked straight into mine. "I want you, Mike," he growled, " I want you to fuck me. Do you want that too?"

God did I ever. But with a rush, the fear returned. My heart pounded and I felt the back of my neck and forehead dampen with panic sweat. Suddenly, I found I couldn't breathe, and I fought to expand my chest. I fought the emotion; tried to control it as I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth. Dimly I heard Kevin softly speaking, but it took a while for me to be able to concentrate enough to hear his words.

"Mike, it's okay. Relax, sweetheart - we're all friends here. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. It's okay; you gotta believe me. You're okay."

My breathing, so shallow and erratic, slowly deepened as I let the sound of his voice fill my head. I realized my eyes were clenched shut. I allowed my face to relax and opened my lids. Kevin's worried face hovered directly above my own. He tried to smile when he saw me looking, but he couldn't quite manage it. He reached up to brush the sweat off my brow and I noticed he was shaking almost as bad as I was.

"You okay?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Good. For a minute there, I'd thought we'd lost you."

I looked at the concern on his face, then down at Saul, now at my other side, kneeling at my shoulder. He was chewing nervously on his lower lip and looked horror-stricken.

"Sorry, Mike," he whispered, his voice full of tears. "I didn't mean to push. Like we said before, you don't have to do anything you don't want to."

I looked at those two worried faces and I realized something: I had no reason to be frightened here. These were my friends - two of the best people I'd ever known. And they were offering the greatest gift they had to give - themselves. I'd be a fool to reject that. And I had never thought of myself as a fool.

"You know," I said, as I sat up and smiled. "If you two clowns think you can get me all hot and bothered, and then just back off, you have a real big surprise coming up."

Kevin searched my face and smiled when he saw something there that he liked.

"Oh, a real big surprise, eh?" He turned to the still-concerned Saul and winked. "Don't worry, baby. It's actually not all that big, as I'm sure you've already noticed."

Saul looked shocked for a second, then caught on and started to giggle. It was contagious. We ended up laughing hysterically in a pile of arms and legs. But when that was over, we started the dance again. We'd all gone soft when I'd had my little panic attack, but that didn't take too long to rectify. And this time I wasn't a watcher. I joined in with an enthusiasm I had worried I was no longer capable of.

Oh, there were a few times when I'd have to pull back, take a little breather to fight back random bursts of panic. And I'd be lying if I told you the momentary helplessness that three-way sex invariably generates didn't make me nervous as hell. But Kevin and Saul always seemed to sense these times a second before they became overwhelming, and they'd wait until they saw the tenseness in my face disappear until they'd start again.

It wasn't long at all before I felt the familiar feel of tense muscle, the involuntary spasm that accompanied it, that seemed to happen whenever I'd slipped my a cock into a warm, tight ass. Saul moaned, but in lust, not pain, as he pushed down. Kevin reached out and held him tight around the shoulders murmuring words of love and encouragement.

I realized with a shock that it had almost been a year since I'd been on the giving and not the receiving end of a good fuck, and I was suddenly eager to make up for lost time. I waited impatiently for Saul to adjust, and as soon as his eyes told me he had, I pushed with my hips to begin. Kevin watched us with greedy eyes until he couldn't stand being left out any longer, and he bent down to take his lover's pole in his mouth.

Once we started, we raced to see who would finish first. We couldn't wait any longer. It was almost a tie, too: Kevin was swallowing the last of Saul's load just as I was losing the first of mine. As I shot off into the tip of a condom, I realized that what had started out as an unbelievable gesture of generosity between friends, had become a special night we'd all keep with us forever. It was a victory for all of us.

While I lay there panting, savoring the moment, Saul released me, then knelt in front of Kevin and took him into his mouth. I watched as the two lovers repeated their own well-known moves. As generous as they'd been with me, it was obvious that now was there time for each other. When Kevin finally let go with his own essence, it may have been my hand he gripped, but it was Saul's face he sought out with his eyes.

There was a moment of silence and then both of them turned to me. They smiled, almost in unison, but I didn't smile back and slowly both of them grew solemn too. When they looked good and unhappy I made my move.

"There's something I need to say to you two," I told them seriously.

I watched as they both geared themselves up for the unpleasantness they believed was about to begin. They'd conned me, and even if the reasons had been pure, they knew I wasn't the type of person that would take being deceived lightly.

Kevin sat up and leaned forward, then put his hand affectionately on my shoulder. "Listen, Mikey, I'm sorry if you're mad about us tricking you into having sex," He spoke tiredly, a mix of exhaustion from the sex and depression at my reaction. "I want you to know that it was all my idea. Saul didn't want to do it. I made him."

"Don't make excuses for me," Saul protested. "I'm a fucking adult and you couldn't have made me do anything if I didn't want to."

"Baby, you know how you were against this..."

"Would you two please shut the fuck up, so I can finish here?" I barked. "Jesus Christ, you two really are starting to sound like an old whiny couple."

They both grew silent. Saul who'd been doing a great imitation of a fuck bunny for the last hour, actually started to blush from embarrassment. 

I cleared my throat. "I tried to tell you this earlier, but one of you was too busy trying to swallow my cock and the other kept sticking his tongue down my throat every time I opened my mouth, so I couldn't. But I to be sure you know this, so I'm telling you now." I looked at both of their serious faces and smiled. "I love you guys, too."




The Human Condition Ch. 09



"Asshole!" Kevin growled, and threw a couch pillow at me.

"Jesus Christ, Mikey, you scared the living shit out of us!" Saul whined, and then he catapulted his body onto my chest and snuggled in.

I wrapped my arms around him, then sighed and only opened my right to invite Kevin to join us. We lay still together for a long time until Saul started to shiver and Kev stretched out a long arm to grab the afghan over the back of the couch. He sat up to spread it over us and as he did he looked into my eyes.

"You know," he said, "there is something else we haven't tried yet."

He stroked my cheek with fingers that still smelled faintly of Saul's cum. My cock stirred and I considered what I knew he was saying: he was asking me if I wanted to bottom. He knew my history with Cam, and I'd been honest with him about how much I'd enjoyed that. I suppose he thought that would mean I'd be eager to take that role again.

But I wasn't. The physical injuries had healed; I knew that for a fact. A couple of fingers up my ass had answered all the questions I'd had about that some weeks before. So it wasn't fear of pain that made me hesitate. Some was a holdover from Elliot, but that wasn't all of it either.

When I'd given myself to Cam, I really did it more because I thought it was time, not because I thought it was right. I regretted that now, and I didn't want to repeat that mistake. I loved Saul and Kevin, but I wasn't in love with them. The next time I felt somebody's cock in my ass, I wanted it to be with someone I loved as a partner, a lover. I wanted that someone to be Joe. It might never happen and I'd have to reconsider, but at this point I was willing to wait and see if the possibility could ever turn into a reality.

Kevin read the answer in my eyes and stilled his hand on my cheek. "You sure?"

I nodded. "But I do appreciate the offer."

"Hey," he winked and nodded towards Saul who'd fallen asleep with his head resting on my shoulder. "We're a full service body shop here. Have to keep the customer satisfied."

I stretched out and moaned in contentment. "I have no complaints."

Kevin looked at me. "I just want to make sure you know the offer is always open."

I grinned and wagged my finger. "And some day I may hold you to it. But not right now, okay?"

"What are you two whispering about?" Saul's sleepy voice drifted up from my chest.

"About what a hot ass you have, and how we both want to fuck it until you can't walk tomorrow," Kevin teased.

"Great, great," Saul yawned, "just don't forget the lube, and try and keep the moaning down so you don't wake me."

Kevin and I both laughed softly as Saul closed his eyes again. Kevin lay back down beside me and soon all three of us were sleeping, curled up together like puppies, or friends who trusted each other absolutely.

Sometime before midnight, Saul woke us and led us into the bedroom where we crawled under the covers of their king-sized bed and held each other. The other two fell back to sleep immediately, but I lay there looking at the moon that shone through the window and washed everything out into shades of gray and silver.

I was thinking of another man who slept under that moon. He would be alone and his pale skin would shine like marble under the cold light. I sent him a private message in that moonlight. I imagined the words traveling up into the sky and down again to glide through his open window and sink into his sleeping form, where they would work their way into his dreams and he would hear the words I meant so much.

"I love you, Joe. Come home to me." 

I closed my eyes and slept.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

The next day I got home and started to think about what my next move should be. I hadn't forgotten my promise to Sarah, or to myself for that matter. But I was definitely going to try and make Joe aware of just exactly what my feelings for him were.

I just didn't have a fucking clue how to go about it.

I thought about a phone call, but that seemed too iffy to me. What if I messed it up and made things worse? Confronting him face to face would've been ideal, but even if I'd had the money to fly to Italy, I had no passport, and the whole situation could end up looking like I was stalking him or something. He'd probably take one look at me and run in the opposite direction.

That left me no choice but to write - something I hated because I'd always sucked at it in school. But at least writing would give me the chance to think about what I wanted to say, and maybe that way I could at least hope I got it right. I sat down and started:

June 10, 1989

Dear Joe,

I think this letter is way overdue. I know you call Beau and get updates on what's happening around here, so I'm not going to get into that now. It's enough to say I've been doing a lot of thinking and examining of who I am and how I really feel about the people that I love. That includes you, man; I think you know that.

The thing is, when you're in therapy, even when it's for something specific like mine is, you get to a point where you start to examine all aspects of your life, not just the ones that landed you on the couch in the first place. And that includes how I feel about you.

I've thought about it a lot. I've run the last 4 years over and over in my head - every conversation, every look, everything I could remember about the time we've spent together. It has been quite a journey, hasn't it? From the moment you ran into that Chem. Lab, my life has never been the same.

Love. It's a word we all use a lot. We love so many things: we love our car and pizza and the new cassette we just bought. There are a lot of ways we love. There are those special kinds we have for our families, our friends, and all the people who are there for us. You belong in that group for me, and no matter what else happens, your friendship will always be one of the things I feel luckiest about having known.

But that isn't all of it Joe. Not even close. Because, I don't just love you as a friend. God knows I've tried to pretend that's all it is, even to myself and especially to you. But I don't want to pretend anymore. And what I really want... what I dream about and pray for in the dark, is you as a lover. Because, the truth is, I not only love you, Joe, I'm in love with you. And I'll say that to you forever and for the rest of my life, if you'll let me.

Only - and I'm not sure how I'm going to tell you this without screwing it up - before I can even think about that, I need to be honest with you about a few things. And that's really important because the truth is I've lied to you since the first day I met you.

See, I've always been in love with you. That's the real reason I was so reluctant to tell you I was gay, and it's also the reason I've spent so much of our time together being distant. I thought that if you knew that about me, you wouldn't want to be my friend and I couldn't face that. So, I lied.

You know, when I look back on every thing, I realize that it was always you who stuck his neck out, not me. If it weren't for you, I'd have never even said hi to you after the first week or two out of the hospital. I'd have drifted - no, run away - from the possibility of us ever being friends. Remember that fight last spring when you nailed me for keeping my distance? Shit, you were so right. Every minute I've spent with you has been one where I've been so concerned about protecting myself, I've never even thought about your feelings and what you needed.

Even now, I realize that all this time you've been away, you've sent me letters and called and not once have I ever made the slightest effort to return the favor. I wasn't even smart enough to figure this out for myself. Last week in therapy, I was bitching to Alice that I hadn't heard from you in a while and she asked me if I'd tried to get in touch with you instead. I was stunned. The thought had never even occurred to me. What kind of an asshole does that make me?

And my answer to that is the kind that would rather you believe I didn't care rather than run the risk of getting rejected. I think somewhere in the back of my mind I had this nice little scenario cooked up where you'd come back and make all the hard choices and leave me with nothing more to do than just open my arms and welcome you home. How's that for neat and tidy? No need for me to commit, or put my ego on the line. I'd leave that up to you, the same way I've always done.

Sure, I figured there was always the risk that you'd feel rejected and not even want to bother, but what the hell.... at least I'd know. It didn't matter that real life doesn't usually include a guarantee of happiness - only the possibility of it - and only if you were really willing to risk everything to get it. No, my attitude was, "fuck the possibilities, I want proof."

But that isn't real life and that isn't love. Because in the long run, it doesn't matter if you love me as much as I love you or even in the same way. What matters is that I love you enough to trust you to accept me telling you how I feel. And if you can't return those feelings, then that's okay, because at least, for once, I'll have known that I'd taken the initiative.

This hasn't been an easy letter for me to write, and I imagine you're not finding it any easier to read. Please believe me when I say, I'm not trying to put any pressure on you here, even if might appear that way. Yes, I want you, but not at the cost of your happiness. If you really feel this is wrong, I'll understand. It will break my heart, but I'd rather that then ever run the risk of hurting you.

But I need you to know how I feel because it would kill me if I thought you were spending one minute worrying about whether or not I wanted this to happen between us. So let me tell you again: I do want you, Joe. More than anything else ever... I want you. And if you think there is even a glimmer of a possibility that you could feel the same way about me someday, I hope you'll remember this letter and know how much I would cherish the opportunity to prove to you that I mean what I say.

So what do you know, I'm dealing in possibilities after all...

Love Always,

Mike 

I folded the letter, put in an envelope and walked to the corner and mailed I before I could change my mind. Less than two weeks later, the answer came. My hands shook as I tore open the envelope.

June 15, 1989

Dear Mike,

I got your letter yesterday. I thought that was pretty good considering the distance it had to travel. I wish you didn't feel bad about not writing before. God knows you've had enough on your mind without worrying about me.

Oh course, that's part of it, isn't it? Oh Jesus, I wish this wasn't all so hard. Right now, I feel like the worlds greatest fuck up. You give me too much credit, Mike. From your letter you'd think you actually thought I actually had a goddamn clue about what I was doing! I don't. In fact, I think I never did.

Oh God, Mike, why can't I figure this out? Why is one part of me so miserable because I can't see your face or hear your voice, and the other so terrified that the thought of going home makes me physically nauseous? I want to be with you, more than you can ever imagine. And the worst is, I feel so damn guilty for not being there when you've been going through all this shit that I can't stand myself. I've never run from anything in my life before, and I can tell you, it's a fucking shock to realize how weak I really am.

You tell me you love me and I know you believe that, but frankly I don't know how you could. You don't even know me! You don't know how much I've hidden from you, from Betsy, from every person I've ever tried to fool into loving me. You call yourself a liar; well, you're a novice compared to me.

You've given me a great gift by telling me all of this about yourself. Don't think I don't realize that. And, never, never worry that I would think less of you because of it. Hell, I should be so brave.

But I'm not, Mike - at least, not brave enough. You've been honest with me, and now it's my turn. See, just because I care about you doesn't mean I'm ready to give up wanting everything else. I've never made it a secret how much I want a family, a home. I don't know if I can give up that dream, not even for you. And I don't think that this is something that can be left to figure out later.

I don't want to feel this way. I'm tired of missing you and I'm tired of being scared of what happens next. But that doesn't mean I'm ready to face it yet either. And honestly, I don't know if I'll ever be. I wish that weren't so, but it is. I know the truth is supposed to "set you free," but I sure as shit feel like all it's done is bind me up into knots I may never be able to untie.

I love you, Mike. 

There - I've finally admitted it. I don't know it that's a good thing or not. I love you, all right... but I just don't know if that's enough. And God help me, I wish that weren't the truth.

Love,

Joe

I read the last paragraph again for the hundredth time and then folded up the sheets, put them back in the nightstand drawer, and wiped my eyes. I'd received Joe's response to my letter a week ago and I really didn't need to look at the letter anymore to know what it said. That didn't stop me, though, and I was pretty sure I'd be rereading it for years to come, whatever the final outcome was.

The problem was, I had no clue what that outcome was going to be. The first time I'd read the letter, I was sure there was no way he was ever going to choose me; the next time all I could see were the words "I love you." I was back to not sleeping very well, but this time it wasn't nightmares I was afraid of: it was dreams of Joe. They were happy dreams, and you'd think that wouldn't have been so bad, except it was because the minute I woke and realized that he wasn't really here and maybe never would be again, the disappointment was crushing.

I wanted to give him time, I really did, but I was impatient, too. I needed to hear his voice, and I told myself that maybe that would be enough to appease me for a while. I hadn't talked to him since the week he'd left. Maybe I needed to change that.

I bugged Beau until he gave me Josh's phone number. I knew that Joe didn't live with him in his apartment anymore. He hadn't since the first week. But I figured if anybody knew how to get a hold of him, it would be Josh.

I looked at my alarm clock. It was time: 7PM in Rome, still too early for eating in that city, but late enough that Josh would probably be there. I took a deep breath and punched in the phone buttons. Even though I was only calling Josh, the thought that soon I'd be talking to Joe made my heart pound.

"Prego." The voice on the other end of the phone made the heavy pounding in my chest skip a beat. I stared at the phone, unable to speak. 

"Hey," said the voice, "anybody on the line?" And then the sound muffled momentarily as the person turned and spoke to someone else. "I think we've got a breather here."

I swallowed hard. My mouth was dry, and I desperately wished I'd had the forethought to grab a beer before I'd started this. Despite the whine of the overseas connection, I knew the voice on the line, and it wasn't Josh's. For all that they were almost identical.

"Joe?" I finally managed to get out.

There was a silence and I thought maybe I'd taken too much time to respond and he'd already hung up. Then I heard a whoosh of breath as it was exhaled into the receiver. The relief that came with knowing he was still there made my knees weak and I sat down heavily on the bed.

"Yeah," came the wary reply.

"Joe, it's... it's Mike."

"I know." He didn't exactly sound overjoyed to admit it.

"I didn't expect to have you answer the phone," I babbled. This was not going at all the way I'd hoped. "Actually, I wasn't expecting you to be there at all. I was calling Josh to..."

"Oh, REALLY?" he snapped. It didn't make sense, but I could swear that Joe sounded pissed. "Well sorry to disappoint you, but I am here, so I guess you and my brother will just have to set another time to talk behind my back!"

Oh shit - now I understood. "Joe, wait," I protested. "That isn't what this is."

"Yeah, right," he said sarcastically "I forgot how you and Josh are so close. You've maybe talked to each other like, what... three times in the last four years? Of course, with a friendship that intense, you two would need to stay in touch." 

I shook my head. "Aw, Jesus Christ," I cried, "at least give me a chance to explain!"

"Explain what, Mike? I think I get it perfectly. You and my brother are cooking up some scheme to get me back there. I wondered why he'd been on my back so much lately, and I just think I figured out why."

I started to get angry, but then caught myself and softened my voice. "You're so wrong, Joe," I began, "and if you'll just stop acting like an asshole and give me a minute and listen..."

"Fuck you, Mike!" he snarled.

There was another voice now in the background, urgent, pleading and Joe must have pulled his mouth away again from the receiver, because his voice sounded more distant, "You stay the hell out of this, bro'! In fact, why don't you just get the fuck out of my life all together? I don't know why I even came to you in the first place!"

"Joe, Joe!" I shouted into the phone, trying to draw his attention back to me. "Why are you acting this way? Shut up before you say something you regret!"

There was silence again. When Joe finally spoke, his voice was shaking with emotion. "I can't... I just can't do this, Mike. Please, don't push me, I can't..."

The phone suddenly dropped, and after a moment, another voice was speaking. "Mike, it's Josh."

"Oh shit, Josh. I'm so sorry, I don't know what just happened... what I said!"

"It's not you, really. Don't worry about it. Joe and I were just having a little difference of opinion, and then you called and he decided to use that as an excuse to go a little nuts."

Reaction was setting in and now I could feel the tears trickle down my face. "God, what have I done?" I said in a hoarse whisper.

"Nothing, trust me." Josh's voice was firm, but gentle. "You didn't do anything wrong, Mike. It's just your timing that sucks. Look, can I call you back? I have to go chase down Mr. Prima Donna. He ran out of here and I need to find him and bitch-slap some sense into him." He sighed. "God, he's such a goddamned drama queen."

Josh never had fit my image of what a priest should talk like. Any other time, I might have laughed at him; today, I barely noticed. "Yeah, fine," I said, trying to regain my composure. "I'd like that. Oh wait - I can't. I have to go to work."

"Hmmm, okay... tomorrow, then. And listen, Mike," he said, his voice softening. "Don't worry. Joe is just... he's really confused right now. He's going to be fine. I promise you that."

"Good," I said, but I didn't believe him. "That's good."

We said our goodbyes and broke the connection. I sat there motionless on the bed. I didn't even hang up the phone, but stared blankly at the receiver in my hand as if I'd never seen one in my life.

I didn't know what the hell to think now. Obviously, Joe was in a lot worse shape then I'd thought, but Josh had acted like he didn't think it was that big a deal. I'd heard enough about Josh from his brother to know that he wasn't the kind of guy who'd say something if he didn't actually believe it, so I had to think he knew what he was talking about.

I forced myself to get up and start getting ready for work. I was going in later than usual because I knew I'd have to be at the office at least until 10PM. We had a big case that had started trial today, and there was bound to be some last-minute research that had to be done after the first witnesses had been called. I'd been bitching because I usually hated staying after hours but now it didn't seem so bad. This night was going to be long enough; I didn't need to spend it all alone.




The Human Condition Ch. 10



I was finishing up the dishes when I looked through the window over the sink and saw Joe in the backyard. He was tugging on the new tire swing I'd attached to the old maple tree in the back yard as a surprise. He looked concerned, as he tentatively leaned his weight against it, and I chuckled to myself at his unease. I ducked my head and watched as he stepped gingerly into the center until he was standing on the rim, his hands firmly grasping the thick nylon rope that attached the old truck tire to the branch some 20 feet above his head. The tree limb groaned slightly, but I knew it was solid enough to hold both of us at the same time.

This was too good to pass up. I threw down the rag I'd just wiped the table with, then quietly tiptoed out the back door and stepped into the yard. Joe was too busy testing the rope's strength by hopping up and down to hear me approach.

"You scaredy-cat!" I said, loudly enough to make him jump again. "I'd have thought for sure that by now, you'd have stopped worrying about the thing breaking!"

He twisted in the wind until he was facing me. He was grinning, but it was that 'naughty boy' smile he used when he was secretly a little embarrassed.

"Yeah, well, I just wanted to make sure," he said. "There are some pretty big kids around here, and I don't want to risk any lawsuits."

He flexed his arms and lifted his legs out of the center hole, then widened them and pulled them around until he was straddling the top of the tire where he settled his weight. I grabbed his knees and pulled him, and the tire, to me until his face and mine were even.

"Sweetheart," I whispered and watched the heat of my words spot his cheeks, "After what we did with this thing last night, I'd think you'd realize there isn't a kid alive big enough to get this thing to fall; no matter how hard they tried."

"Yeah," he laughed. "You have a point. That was something else again. I didn't think it would work."

"I told you, you could trust me," I reminded him. "Trying new things can be an exciting experience."

"Just keep reminding me of that," he said, as he leaned over and kissed me.

I grinned. "Haven't I always?"

"Oh yeah," he whispered as he rested his forehead on mine. "And I've always been so glad you did."

And so was I, I thought to myself. Though there had been times when I hadn't been sure at all of the outcome...





July 24th, 1989

It had been a really shitty day. Two of the younger associates at work had started it off by screaming at me because the research wasn't done on a case they had to present at a pre-trial meeting to the partners. Never mind the fact that they hadn't even given me the assignment until a mere twenty-four hours before.

Then, one of the bigwigs came in and handed me a list of precedents he needed yesterday. And another one wanted to know why I hadn't found time to write up a motion he'd given me a couple of days ago, conveniently forgetting that he'd said there was no hurry, and to 'work at it at my own speed.'

Between this and all the other bullshit I had to deal with, I didn't get out of there until well after eight, which meant I'd been sitting on my ass staring at a computer for the better part of twelve hours. Pen had taken pity on me and had shared her lunch of fruit and yogurt, but otherwise I'd had nothing in my stomach all day except coffee. At least it was Friday, and I didn't have to be back in that hellhole for another two whole days.

Okay - maybe not a hellhole - not really. All things considered, it was still a pretty good place to work and leagues above what most students had for employment. The problem really wasn't work; it was me. I just wasn't in the mood for office politics.

Of course, there wasn't much I was in the mood for lately. It'd been a month since my disastrous phone call to Joe. We hadn't spoken since. I'd written twice and started a dozen more, and Joe had sent me a few postcards showing the sights he wasn't seeing in Rome and saying, in as few words as possible, that he was okay. But it wasn't nearly enough to make me feel better about the whole fiasco.

I could manage to shove it to the back of my mind for only so long anymore. I'd be working or running an errand or just kicking back... And suddenly, I'd get this sinking sensation in my stomach that usually meant my brain was reminding me I'd forgotten to do something important. But in this case, it meant that somehow my internal clock was telling me that time was running out - that the longer Joe stayed away, the less chance there was that he'd ever come back. 

I tried to tell myself I was just being paranoid. Even if Joe did decide that we could never be friends again, I didn't think he'd do that by cutting me off without a word. But as the days turned into weeks, it was getting harder and harder to convince myself of that.

In my darkest hours, I imagined him in Rome, surrounded by a new circle of jet-setting friends and laughing, forgetting all about me, or maybe turning us into an amusing anecdote complete with shrugs and self-deprecating banter. He'd finish his tale, and the beautiful girl by his side would kiss his cheek and assure him that as funny as the story was, she was sure he was making it the whole thing up.  Especially in light of what had happened between them the night before in his bed.  

This was nothing more than self-indulgent pity on my part, and I knew it. In fact, I had gotten news from Rome that assured me that the reality of Joe's life there was quite different than my perverse daydreams were making it out to be.

Josh had made good on his promise to call me after he got back from his gig as personal slave to a Vatican dignitary. And he'd wasted no time either in assuring me that he thought that his brother Joe was totally nuts - but not fatally so, and that he'd come around eventually. It was a sentiment I was most grateful for. But it was sometimes hard to remember that, late at night when I was alone in the dark.

I have to admit, I was kind of surprised that this was Josh's attitude. Obviously, I knew he was aware I was gay, so it didn't shock me that Joe had told him what had gone on between us. Even though the twins had drifted apart over the years, I figured Joe would have to have shared something this big with his brother. Hell, that was undoubtedly the reason he'd gone to Rome in the first place.

What did amaze me was Josh's acceptance of the whole situation. He didn't seem in the least bit surprised that Joe was grappling with the issue of his bisexuality. To me, that seemed to be a pretty big thing to be blasé about.

"Look," he said, "Joe has always been a little more interested in guys than he'd have most people believe. I've known that since we were kids."

	"You trying to tell me something?"  I was joking when I said it, but the silence on the other end of the phone went on little two long and I realized that maybe I'd inadvertently struck a chord.  

This was an interesting development.  I waited for a minute, hoping that Josh would add to his little revelation.  But if there was a story to be told, it didn't look like I was going to hear it from him today.  I decided to let him off the hook.

	"On second thought," I drawled.  "I think we can just leave that topic alone."  He chuckled self-consciously and I grinned to myself.  Oh yes, I thought, there was a story...    

"Yeah well," he finally continued. "Let's just say you know stuff about your twin you might otherwise miss with another sibling. At least, I do. So it didn't exactly come as a shock to me when he finally admitted his feelings for you. Actually, I've sort of expected it."

I was stunned. "You're kidding!" I said. Though I realized he wasn't. But what did bother me was why this had apparently been so clear to everybody except for the two of people who were most involved.

"You want the honest truth?" Josh went on, oblivious to my internal thoughts. "I was less surprised by that than I was when he announced his engagement to that girl Betsy. In fact, I think in the long run, this is something that was bound to happen. Especially since the day he met you."

I sighed and shook my head. "Too bad Joe isn't as thrilled about it as you are."

"Listen Mike," he said. "I know my brother. He wouldn't be miserable if he realized that what he really wanted was you. And trust me," Josh continued, laughing. "He's the most miserable son-of-a-bitch on the face of the earth right now."

"Sorry, but that doesn't exactly make me feel better." I responded dryly.

"Oh, hell! I don't mean that the way it sounded," he apologized. "But look at it from his point of view: for most of his life, Joe's been one of those guys who always had it easy, and he got used to things going exactly the way he thought they should. You've been a real shock to his system. And, I think maybe that's not such a bad thing."

Josh went on from there in his very logical Jesuit manner. By the end of the conversation, I was feeling pretty good. That lasted about as long as it took me to get ready for bed. Much as it was nice to hear his words of encouragement, it didn't mean squat if Joe didn't agree with his assessment.

But I am nothing if not stubborn. I'd promised myself to not give up until Joe actually told me himself it was hopeless. So I got up the next morning, and all the other mornings after that and I went to work and planned for the day when Joe and I finally would talk again face-to-face. But I'd be lying if I told you it was easy. And as the days grew into weeks, I was beginning to think that even my pigheaded optimism wasn't going to last longer than Joe's indecision.

 That morning, I'd taken my car into the shop for some repairs, so I'd ridden my bike to work. What had seemed like a great idea in the cool of early hours had now turned into a test of endurance. July in Ann Arbor is like July in my home state: hot, muggy, and miserable. The day had been a scorcher, and it showed no signs of letting up. By the time I got home, I was dripping with sweat and filthy with the grit and exhaust residue of a hundred cars and trucks from the seven-mile trek from downtown. All I wanted to do was take a long shower and veg in front of the TV with a beer and the bag of tacos I'd picked up on the way home.

The light on my answering machine was blinking when I walked through the living room, but I ignored it. I didn't even think about it again until I was getting ready for bed. With a yawn, I punched the listen button, ready to hear the spiel of some telemarketer. Instead, I froze as a very familiar voice spoke from the box.

"Mike, it's Joe. I guess you're still at work, or maybe you went out. I wanted to talk to you, but it's probably better that we wait and do it in person."

In person - had he really said that? I stopped the machine and rewound the message. That's what he said all right. I listened to the rest with my eyes shut in concentration, my heart pounding like a jackhammer in my chest.

"I'm coming home. The flight number is 734 on Northwestern. I'll be landing at Metro at 12:40 AM tonight - or I should say, tomorrow. Anyway, I could really use a ride, but if you can't make it... well, I'll understand."

There was a long silence then a sigh.

"Still, I'd really like to see you."

There was a click and the phone went dead. I looked at my clock. Shit! It was already 11:55 and I was car-less. It didn't matter; if I had to use a skateboard, I was going to get to that airport! I grabbed some clothes and threw them on. My fingers shook as I buttoned the fly on my jeans. I was down the steps and banging at Lucy's door in under 60 seconds. She was still up, but not very happy to see me at first.

"There had better be a damned good reason for this, young man," she said, raising an eyebrow in irritation.

"Can I borrow your car?" I asked, breathlessly. "It's kind of an emergency."

I knew the Caddy was her baby. And I was half expecting her to say no, but the look on my face must have convinced her that this was no late night run for beer.

"Of course." She said, looking at me closely. "Come in while I get you the keys."

I stood in her kitchen, first on one foot, then the other. My mouth was dry and my heart was pounding. Lucy came back into the room with a set of keys in her hand.

"Are you okay, Michael? Would you like me to come with you?" she asked with concern.

I shook my head. "I'm fine," I said. "I have to go to the airport and pick somebody up."

I didn't want to get into some long discussion, so I deliberately omitted saying Joe's name - but she knew. She smiled, then raised her tiny hand to my face and softly stroked my cheek.

"Things usually have a way of working out for the best," she said quietly. "Even if it doesn't seem that way at the time, Michael. If you need to talk later, I'll be here - anytime, day or night."

She pulled me down and kissed me, quite firmly, on the forehead, then pointed towards the door.

"Now, get out of here and don't worry."

"I love you, Lucy." The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

"Of course you do," she said calmly, "I'm irresistible! Now hurry, and take care you don't hurt my car."

I practically ran to the garage and jumped into the big, comfy gas-guzzler. I glanced at the dimly lit dashboard clock - it was now 12:10. I silently cursed as I gunned the engine and tore off down the street. There was no way I could make the drive in a half an hour, but I was counting on baggage and customs to slow Joe down. Thank God, traffic was light for a Friday night, and I made good time.

At first, I was too absorbed in the driving to think of much else, but after I got on the freeway, I started to wonder how this was going to go. The nervousness I'd lost in the initial act of plotting the quickest route out of Ann Arbor returned with a vengeance.

By the time I pulled into the front of Northwestern's Terminal, I was a basket case. I wasn't even sure where I should meet him. There was no way I could park without having to walk about a mile, and I was too afraid to do that in case I missed him. At least my thoughts kept me from facing what I was really worried about. What was I going to say to Joe when I saw him? And more importantly, what was he going to say to me?

I glanced at the dashboard. It was after 1 AM. The concourse was a madhouse, and my heart sank when I didn't see him. Because of the traffic, I couldn't stop and take a good look, but had to keep endlessly circling, craning my neck as I avoided an ocean of pedestrians, cabs, cars, and shuttles. On my fifth go-round, a spot in the loading area miraculously opened up. I grabbed it and carefully pulled the Caddy up to the curb. I took a quick look around, and decided to risk a ticket and go into the terminal. Suddenly, a shape detached itself from the shadows and stepped into the light.

It was Joe. He didn't appear to recognize the car, but then, he was probably expecting my old Duster. I watched him for a minute as he stood there looking into the gloom beyond the streetlights. He looked so... alone.

I caught my breath as my emotions surged. It was only then that I realized a part of me had truly believed I'd never see him again. My hands were shaking. I gripped the steering wheel and steadied myself. Whatever the rest of this night would bring, I assured myself, it had to be better than the waiting I'd endured in the last few months. After tonight, I would be getting on with my life - one-way or the other.

I shut off the engine and got out on legs I weren't sure would hold me. Joe looked up just as the door slammed.

You know how in all those corny romantic stories the two lovers stare at each other and everything else slows down and disappears? Well, that didn't happen. I was acutely aware of the lights, the sounds of traffic, a porter checking in a young girl's bags. No romantic music, no swelling orchestra - just two, long-lost friends staring at each other from forty feet away, each filled with anxiety.

But I was aware of Joe. He stood in a pool of light and the glow sharpened the edges of his outline. I could see he needed a shave, and there were hollows in his cheeks that hadn't been there a couple of months ago. The eyes that met mine were shadowed with a weariness that wasn't caused by jet lag.

A man in a hurry bumped into him, but Joe didn't notice. He never moved, just continued to stare at me. I walked around the car and stepped onto the pavement next to him. I wanted to touch him - to hold him, to comfort him like a lost child. Instead, I picked up the bags that sat at his feet.

"Is this all your luggage?" I asked.

He seemed distracted. "Yes," he said.

"Okay. I'll put 'em in the trunk."

I suited my actions to my words. Joe continued to stand motionless. His shoulders sagged.

"Why don't you get in the car?" I said quietly.

Silently, he did. I got into the driver's seat and buckled up, then cranked the engine. I looked over at Joe.

"Seatbelt?"

He obeyed me, and then lay his head back on the seat and drew in a long breath and closed his eyes. I stared at him worriedly. I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't this.

"Take me home, Mike," he whispered. He spoke so softly, I barely heard him.

I wanted to say something, but I didn't have a clue what that would be, so I kept my mouth shut. We drove to Ann Arbor in silence. It had started to rain and the only sound in the car was the steady womp-womp of the wipers. Joe's eyes were still closed, but I don't think he was sleeping.

There was a light on in Lucy's kitchen as we pulled up to the house. I put the car in park and turned it off. Joe never moved. I leaned over and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey - you awake?" I whispered.

He turned to me slowly and we had another long stare. I could feel his heat radiate from my hand where I touched him. It traveled the long arc of my arm and entered my heart. I smiled at him. His hand stretched out and pulled me towards him. Slowly our arms tightened until we were holding each other in a fierce, tight embrace. His head was on my shoulder and he buried his nose in my t-shirt and took a deep, shuddering breath. 

"I've missed your smell." He whispered. "Sometimes I'd catch a whiff of something, someone who would remind me of you, and I'd follow..." He trailed off and took another deep breath then he trembled.

"Oh, God, Mike... I'm so scared."

My heart pounded and my hands were around his back stroking him softly. The swelling in my cock was an intrusion I wanted to go away. This was not the time for sex; it was love we were talking about. Joe had made his decision. My heart soared with that realization at the same time my bowels turned to water because of the fear that gripped me. I rubbed the top of his head with my cheek.

"So am I, Joe." I replied as softly as he. "So am I. But we'll figure this out. I love you."

He raised his head and smiled a little.

"That's why I came home. You love me, and I finally realized that's the only thing that matters in my life." He shook his head in wonderment. "Who'da thunk it?"

"Well, apparently, not the two of us," I added dryly, "considering it only took us four years and the help of a bunch of people pointing it out for us to realize it."

We were silent for a few minutes just holding each other and breathing in each other's scent. It was amazing how right it felt to have Joe in my arms. For the first time in my life, I knew what it was like to be completely content. Hell, I was ready to take up residency in that car. I wondered idly if Lucy would mind if I told her she couldn't have it back. But all good things must come to an end. Both my legs were going to sleep from the awkward position I was in.

Joe must have been getting a little uncomfortable too, because he finally broke the silence. "We should probably go upstairs," he said, nodding his head towards the entrance.




The Human Condition Ch. 10



Reluctantly, I agreed and we slid apart and got out of the car. My arms felt empty. I popped the trunk and Joe and I retrieved his suitcase and backpack and trudged up the squeaky staircase. I got out my key and put it in the lock and shivered when Joe brushed against me as I opened the door. I stepped aside and he walked in. I turned to look at the big house. The light in the kitchen blinked off. Lucy had waited to make sure everything was okay.

I went inside and closed the door. Joe had dropped his things as soon as he got in and was just standing there. I reached for the light switch.

"Don't." His voice was hoarse. "I need to say some things to you, and I don't think... I don't think I'll be able to go through with it if I can see your face."

My hand froze on the switch and I waited for Joe to go on.

"When I left here, I was pretty sure I wasn't going to be coming back. Not ever." His voice sounded sore, as if the words were hurting him. "I had it all planned out. I'd take a year off; apply to another medical school, start over. I'd decided it would be better if I never saw you again."

I stood there appalled. The fact that I'd already figured that out didn't make it any easier to hear it coming out of his mouth. A choking fear squeezed my chest and made it difficult to breath.

Joe seemed to sense my feelings. "I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't be telling you this."

I shook my head even though I knew he couldn't see me do it. "No," I said, keeping my voice steady. "I want to hear everything."

Joe sighed heavily and went on. "I told myself that in a couple of years, maybe we'd be able to get together, pretend nothing had happened. Maybe we could salvage at least some of our friendship. I was kidding myself, of course. But the only way I could face the possibility of not seeing you was to tell myself it was only temporary." He laughed but there was no humor in the sound. "That fact alone should've told me I wouldn't be able to go through it."

My eyes had adjusted to the dark room and I could see him shake his head slowly and shrug his shoulders.

"Self-deception is an amazing defense mechanism," he continued. "It can make you believe the most impossible things."

There was so much pain in his voice I regretted encouraging him. 

"Joe, you don't have to..." I started.

"Let me finish." He was too harsh and he knew it. "Please." He'd softened his voice, but it was still an order.

I stayed quiet and he continued after a few moments.

"When I got to Rome, I was determined to put all of this behind me. Josh had an apartment with two other priests. I stayed with them for a few days until I found a place of my own. Josh didn't want me to go, but I told him I needed some time alone to think. He didn't like it, but eventually he gave in, after making me promise that I'd check in every few days."

He paused and cleared his throat.

"Can I have a glass of water?" He asked politely, almost formally.

I was surprised he asked. He'd always helped himself before.

"Sure." I walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a glass and filled it from a bottle in the fridge. The light momentarily blinded me and I had to wait for my eyes to adjust before I walked back over to him. I handed him the glass. He was careful not to touch me, but his fingers shook and some of the water slopped over the rim onto the floor.

"Sit down," I said gently.

I could barely see his face, but I still felt like his eyes were burning into me. He stayed where he was for a minute, then put the glass to his lips and drained it. He handed it back to me, again avoiding physical contact, then went over and slumped on his usual spot on the couch - legs bent, knees spread, with his large hands dangling between his legs. I went back to the kitchen area and filled his glass again and got one for myself. I walked over to the sofa and put his glass in front of him and turned to go sit in my recliner.

"Could you sit on the couch? Like... like you usually do?"

I stopped. I had thought he'd be more comfortable with some distance between us. Apparently, I was wrong. I turned and moved to my traditional end of the sofa and sat down carefully. The bizarre familiarity and strangeness of the scene struck me at once: how often we had sat like this, just bullshitting and telling each other our dreams. Yet somehow, this felt like we were talking for the very first time.

Joe started to speak again in a low, soft voice. I leaned forward and hung on every word, as if my life depended on it.

"At first, I had this plan. I was going to do all these things - play tourist, meet new friends. For a few days I tried, but nothing really interested me. The ancient ruins left me cold; museums were a bore. Nights, I'd just sit in a bar and I'd listen to the people around me. I couldn't join in, and not just because of the language barrier. It seemed like I'd lost the ability to connect with people." He cleared his throat. "It was a novel experience."

I'll bet, I thought. Joe was used to having an entourage. Except for the times we'd spent alone, I didn't think I'd ever seen him without at least of couple of buds tagging along.

"I told myself I wanted companionship," he continued, "but I kept avoiding it at the same time. Josh was almost out of his mind worrying about me, but even with him I couldn't really open up. I mean... I told him about us, but only to a point - only the facts. I just couldn't make myself tell him how I felt. Our connection had been slipping for a long time - ever since high school, really - but I didn't know how much we'd really grown apart until I saw him this summer."

He stopped talking and took another gulp of water. "It wasn't like we were suddenly strangers. It'll never be like that; he'll always be my brother, my twin. But we no longer depend on each other the way we used to. Josh has the church; I had... well, I wasn't sure what I had, but I knew it wasn't him anymore. I couldn't tell him all that'd happened between Betsy and me. I... I couldn't tell him how I really felt - about you."

"He knew anyway," I interrupted gently.

Joe nodded and turned away slightly. "Yeah," he admitted. "That's right. Josh was always good at reading me. Anyway, he guessed or did the old twin thing - I don't know. But he finally came to me and confronted me. It took him a while to wear me down, but he kept after me, bugging me. The day you called was the day I finally broke down and told him all of it. You calling like that..." He made a gesture of helplessness, then sat back and ran his fingers through his hair. "Well... it seemed to just be the final straw. That's the real reason I blew up with you. Josh was pissed at me about that, by the way. He thought I'd acted like a real shit-head. We fought about it more than once."

"I know."

"That's right, he told you. I knew he talked to you afterwards. He likes you - did you know that? He says you're tough and brave, even if you do have lousy taste in men."

I couldn't stop myself; I reached over and stroked the arm he'd draped over the back of the couch. Joe slid it back until our hands touched. I could feel his hand twitch slightly from nervousness, but then his fingers curled and gripped me tightly.

"I'd been there for almost 5 months and I'd developed a whole routine. Every morning, I got up, I'd shower and shave; eat my breakfast and then go out for a walk. I would go in any direction I felt like. I'd walk for hours, only stopping for something to eat or a coffee. Most of the time, I'd get hopelessly lost and would have to take a taxi back to my apartment. At night, I'd go down to the cafe on the corner and I'd watch the neighborhood people. Eventually, I did get to know some of them, but I still felt like an outsider. The world was going on around me, but I didn't feel like I had a place in it anymore."

He squeezed my hand harder and took a deep breath before he continued. "One day, I walked to this little neighborhood about three miles from where I was staying, near the Villa Celimontana. I'd been there before, but it somehow appealed to me, and I'd gone back several times. It was just a middle-class neighborhood, not very beautiful, not particularly old - at least by Italian standards - but there was this little park with a fountain, Parco di Porta Capena, and the neighborhood kids would kick soccer balls and the old men would play bocce and the mothers of the smaller children would sit on the grass and gossip while keeping an eye on their bambinos. But that day, there didn't seem to be anybody around."

"The church on the corner opened its doors and six pallbearers appeared with a coffin. A middle-aged woman, all in black, walked behind it. Two young men supported her. She was crying, and the boys and the crowd that followed were grim. I watched as they loaded the coffin into a hearse and kept my eyes on the scene until everybody had left. After all the activity, the street seemed unnaturally quiet.

"Suddenly, the front door of the house across from where I was sitting swung open and a bunch of people came running out of the house laughing. It was as if somebody had thrown a switch. Houses from all over the neighborhood opened up and people were laughing and shouting at each other.

"An older man appeared in the doorway of the first house and seemed to address the whole neighborhood. Everyone got quiet and watched him as he turned back to the house and motioned to someone. A beautiful young girl appeared beside him, dressed in a white wedding gown. Her cheeks were bright red from embarrassment, but she was smiling. The crowd went wild. They cheered and applauded. Over and over I heard the word, 'bellissima.' Then as suddenly as they started, they were silent again.

"A young man dressed in a dark suit had broken from the crowd and started to walk towards his bride. I saw the look on his face, in her eyes. He took her hand and together, with all the people who lived around that square they made their way to the church. The same church where so many had cried just a little while before. I watched until the crowd had disappeared and the doors had shut. The street was silent again.

"Again, I seemed absolutely alone in that park. It was so quiet I could actually hear the sound a squirrel made as it jumped in and out of bushes looking for stray candy and snacks left by the neighborhood kids. But, after a while, I realized that I wasn't really alone.

"There was a mime or a clown - I never did figure out what to call him - standing just behind the fountain. I'd seen him before; he used to work the street corner up from the café on evenings, when the tourists would be taking a pre-dinner walk. He had this whole schtick he'd do, with balloons and pratfalls, not really the normal 'man in a box' stuff that mimes do, but he was silent like them. Anyway, I'd seen him a lot, so I recognized him now, though I'd never met him before outside of my seat at the café.

"I don't know why he was there that day either. Maybe he was hired for entertaining at the wedding party later - I never did find out. But when I saw him, I realized he must've been watching me for some time. We looked each other over. He smiled at me and motioned towards the church to show he knew what I'd been looking at. I smiled back politely and grabbed my book and pretended to read. A minute later I realized a pair of black ballet shoes were visible in front of me.

"I looked up and saw the clown. He had a big red balloon in one hand, and he lifted it above his head and let go. We both watched as it sailed up over the trees and disappeared. Then he grinned.

"'La vita è bella,'" he said. And then he turned and walked away."

I'd never heard the phrase. "What does it mean?" I asked.

Joe cleared his throat. "It means, life is beautiful."

He stopped, and then I realized I could feel his thumb lightly stoke the top of my hand. 

"I couldn't believe it," he said. "I felt like I was in a fucking Fellini film! I started to laugh out loud and had to restrain myself from looking for movie cameras. I couldn't sit there anymore. I was still grinning, but I got up and started to walk back to the apartment, then began to run. I was in a hurry - I had to get back. I wasn't sure why, but the compulsion was irresistible."

He looked up at me. The light was so dim, I couldn't make out the details of his face, but I could see a faint reflection in his eyes. "Suddenly, I stopped," he said. "I knew. I knew that what I wanted - no, needed to do - was to tell you... to share with you what I'd just seen. And not just what I'd seen on that day, but on every day."

He stopped for a moment and sat there. Finally, he began again, his voice soft in the darkness.

"Mike," he said, "I don't know where this will take us. I don't even know if what we feel for each other will last."

His hand squeezed mine, then released it. I felt his heat as he slid towards me. I strained my eyes in the darkness, searching his face as it closed in on mine. Long habit made me want to turn away, to jump up and move to a safer distance - the distance I'd always kept between us in self-preservation. I held my ground.

"But one thing I do know," he reached up and stroked my cheek. I could feel the trembling in his fingers. "And that's that I love you. And even though I don't know exactly what that can bring us, I can't let my fear keep me from finding out."

He tilted my head up so our lips were only millimeters apart and stopped. I wanted to pull him towards me, but I knew it was important to Joe that he be allowed to be in control for that moment. The moment stretched and I forgot how to breathe.

With a shudder, Joe closed the distance between us. The kiss was awkward, our noses got in the way, our teeth clicked harshly, and our tongues felt fat and clumsy as they dueled. Yet I almost came from the sheer joy of it.

"Jesus, this is strange!" Joe whispered in my ear. "The women I've kissed never had heavier beards than me."

"Well, there was that one girl from Greece I remember you dating..." I said, falling back into our normal pattern.

"Fuck you, asshole." Joe punched me lightly, then stopped as he realized that the previously innocent comment had just taken on a whole new meaning.

"Sure," I said with a chuckle. "I'll go get the lube." I tried to leer at him in the dim light, but started laughing instead at the look of alarm on his face. 

"Relax," I said, reassuringly. "I was just kidding."

Joe grinned a little, but his eyes still looked worried. I figured now was as good a time as any to get the inevitable sex talk out of the way. I gently pulled away from him and twisted to turn on the lamp on the coffee table. By the time I'd turned back, Joe was in his usual corner of the sofa, eyes cast downward, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry." He said simply. "I thought that this would be easier, that somehow things would just fall into place."

"What?" I said, incredulously. "You thought after one kiss I'd be up on all fours wagging my ass in your face?" I shook my head and frowned in mock disgust. "You've been reading gay porn, haven't you?"

I waited until I saw him grin again. "Joe, it's okay," I said. Now it was my turn to move to him. I pulled him into a loose embrace that he didn't return, but didn't resist either.

"Listen," I said soothingly. "We can go as fast or as slow as you want. Gay sex is not as absolute as the boy/girl kind. Different partners make up different dynamics depending on their tastes, their needs. I think we'll just have to take our time and find out what works for both of us." And, I silently prayed, I hope to hell we find it.

I leaned forward and took his mouth again. Now, there was no hesitancy in my kiss, no restraint. Our mouths opened and this time, the awkwardness was gone. Our tongues dueled expertly, as if they'd always known each other. I could have pressed on at that moment. I knew it from the way his body leaned into mine, the way our hearts had taken on each other's beats, but I broke the kiss instead. There were still things to be said and now that Joe was here with me, I felt like we had all the time in the world to explore our possibilities. I was not going to risk rushing through something I'd waited so long to experience.

Which makes me sound like I was making some sort of sacrifice. Not a chance. Sure, I wanted Joe, more than I've ever wanted another human being, ever - but I didn't just mean that physically. I wanted to let his voice sink into my bones and I wanted to re-memorize the planes of his face, the way his eyes asked me questions he wasn't able to put into words. Like I said, this wasn't about sex.

"So," I brushed his hair off his forehead. "Are you hungry?"

He laughed shakily. "Starved."

I pulled out the cold cuts I'd bought the night before for the weekend, and quickly threw together a sandwich. He stayed on the couch and watched me as if he'd never seen me before. I poured him a glass of milk to go with it and brought them both over to him. He thanked me - again too politely - then sat there and stared at the food as if he'd forgotten how to eat.

"Go on," I urged him, "dig in! Just don't get used to the service. I'm not exactly handy in the kitchen."

"Like this is exactly news?" he said with a grin. He picked up half of the sandwich and bit into it. As he chewed he gestured to the remaining part.

"Aren't you having any?" He said as soon as he'd swallowed.

I shook my head. "I'm not hungry."

He shrugged and gulped down the rest of the snack in silence. I watched him greedily. I hadn't exactly been truthful when I said I wasn't hungry. I was - just not for food. 

He picked up the glass of milk and drank half of it without taking a break. When he set it down he had a milk mustache. Letting myself give into temptation, I reached across and wiped up the moistness with my finger and stuck it in my mouth, sucking off the sweet liquid, warm from his skin. When I looked back at him, he was staring at my mouth, his eyes hot and filled with desire. He noticed me looking and licked his lips nervously.

We reached for each other at the same time. The kiss was deep and full, as we tasted each other's flavors. Another new style to add to our growing repertoire, I thought. Again, I had to force myself to break away before we got too caught up in the moment. Joe made a little moan in the back of his throat when I did, but he didn't protest anymore. He knew as well as I did that we needed to take care of other things before we sampled any more of each other.

Joe looked at me steadily. "I want to tell you something."

He sat up and shoved back on the couch until he was in the crook of the arm, as far from me as he could possibly get. He seemed to need the distance and I wondered what it was that he could possibly have to say that would make him think that.

"You can tell me anything," I said. "I hope you know that."

He nodded, then bit nervously at his thumb. "I wish I had a cigarette. You didn't know I started smoking in Rome, did you?"

It amazed me. Joe had always been so adamant about all the 'body is a temple' crap. "That's what you wanted to tell me?" I asked incredulously. "'Cause if it is, I'm not wild about the idea - but it's your life." I looked towards the kitchen. "I think I have an ashtray over in the cupboard. Let me go..."

Joe reached over and put his hand on my arm. "Relax - I quit. I threw out the rest of my pack in the airport in Rome."

"Oh." I was confused and I looked at him, waiting for an answer.

"I was just trying to put this off. I need to get it off my chest, but I'm not sure I want to - if you get my drift."

"Take your time," I covered his hand with mine. "We can even wait and do this later if you're too tired now."

Joe slid his hand out from under mine. "No, I don't want to wait. I've been keeping this inside me for far too long as it is - way too long." He sat back again and closed his eyes and began. "I've never been very good with telling the truth."




The Human Condition Ch. 10



I started to protest, but he held out a hand, shook his head and I stopped. After a few seconds of silence, Joe began again.

"Mike, you've been honest with me, and now it's my turn. Forgive me if I get confused or don't make much sense. I haven't had much experience with it; lying is so much easier, especially when you've had as much practice at it as I have."

He waited for me to take in his words. When I had no further comment, he went on.

"From the time I hit puberty, I knew I liked boys sexually. Oh, I liked women, too - plenty - but the attraction to men was always there. I never did anything about it. Well... not much, anyway. There were a few times when my buddy Todd Baylor and I sorta helped each other out when we were beating off, but that was at camp when we were about twelve, and I really don't think that counts."

Actually, it does, I thought, but I wasn't about to interrupt him with a discussion of adolescent gay psychology.

"Anyway, that was about it, 'cause when I realized how much I'd really enjoyed it, it scared the shit out of me! So, I decided that I'd make sure it never happened again. Instead, I just thought, 'big deal, I like girls too.' That's the easier route; I'll just choose that path. I mean, who wouldn't if they could, right? Who would choose being something that half the world hates? At least, that's what my 13 year-old mind thought."

I winced a little but nodded.

Joe smiled apologetically. "Sorry if that's offensive. But you started the truth game, so consider it your fault that I've decided to play, too."

I shrugged. "It's the truth. I never had a choice myself, and I think most guys are the same way, but I can understand what you're saying. If I'd been in your shoes, I'd probably have felt the same way."

He nodded briefly, but he looked relieved at my reaction. "You'd be amazed at how easy it really was to do this. It was like I trained myself to be 100% heterosexual. 'That guy's got a cute ass,' I'd think, and then correct myself. 'No, don't look at him! Look at that girl with the great boobs, instead!' After a while, it just became second nature. Hell, I thought I was over it - like it was a cold or a case of the measles."

He shook his head as if he was still amazed at his own self-deception. "And it didn't exactly feel like I was denying myself anything. I still had all the girls I wanted. Why not? It was socially acceptable, and trust me - I loved every minute of it. That was another reason I was sure that I wasn't really gay. How could I have enjoyed sex with girls so much if I really wanted sex with guys?" He grinned. "Of course, the complexities of bisexuality escaped me in high school."

Joe's smile faded and he looked at me, suddenly serious again. "And they may have forever if something hadn't happened. I met you."

My face flushed momentarily.

"But I wasn't as smart as you," he continued. "I had no idea how I felt for you in the beginning. All I knew was that you were this really cool guy that I liked a lot." He dropped his eyes and studied the hands he was absent-mindedly twisting in his lap.

"Here comes my first confession," he said. "When you told me you were gay, my reaction had more to do with panic than anger." Joe laughed and shook his head. "I was so freaked, I thought the reason you were telling me all the that was because you knew - that somehow you'd guessed my secret! That you knew how attracted I was to guys."

I started to say something, but Joe shook his head.

"And there was more," he said quietly. "For one brief moment when you finally said, 'I'm gay,' all I felt... was happy. And that really scared the hell out of me."

"I had no idea," I said softly.

Joe looked up. "Of course you didn't! I wasn't about to let you or anybody else know my big secret! Hell, I couldn't let myself believe it! Anyway, I managed to justify my reaction pretty damn quick. All those years of conditioning kicked in. By the time I'd gotten home to Chicago, I was just chalking it up to 'one of those things.'

"But, that's why Josh was able to talk me out of being so pissed, so easily. I had already convinced myself that you were no threat to my sexuality." He shook his head and smiled wanly. "Funny - if I'd really thought about it, I wonder if I'd have realized how much I really wanted to be talked into apologizing, and what exactly that meant."

"You made me very happy when you called back that night," I said.

"Don't!" Joe protested. "Don't try and make this sound like it's something I should be proud of! I did that enough on my own. Do you know I actually had the balls to congratulate myself for being so liberal? You wrote in your letter that you thought you'd been an asshole, but I have to tell you - you don't exactly hold the corner on the market, Mike."

"I told myself I loved you like a brother.  Hell, it even made sense with Josh so cut off cause of being in the seminary and all.   It didn't even occur to me that no matter how close I was to him, I'd never felt the connection I'd felt with you - and he's my twin!  But I barely missed him after a while, 'cause I didn't need him the way I always had before. I had you."

I had to admit what he was saying was starting to make a lot of sense, especially after my conversations with Josh. All the pieces I hadn't been able to fit into place before were working their way into the picture. It was a different picture than what I'd expected, but I had a feeling that when it was complete, I was going to like it a lot better.

Joe, for his part, was caught up in his story. "I can tell you the first time I started to realize that I might be feeling something for you, that didn't exactly fit in with my self-image of rampant heterosexuality. If you think about it, you can probably figure it out for yourself. Do you remember? It was the night you came home after spending that day on Cam's boat."

I nodded. Again, this made sense, and I'd already figured out this was a turning point in my own little journeys down memory lane these last few months.

Joe made a sour face. "I never liked him, you know - not from the moment I saw you look at him when he walked into that bar. I told myself that it was just that I was worried about you. Of course, that was pure bullshit, but I bought it because it was what I needed to believe. Then came that night when you came home with Cam, and even my powers of self-deception weren't strong enough to keep me from facing the truth.

"I'd been real happy when I got to your place. You didn't know that, did you? How could you? It sure wasn't the mood I was in when you finally got home. See, Betsy had called an old mutual friend of ours... and then she'd gone to Illinois for the game, and I saw her there afterwards. She told me Bets was on her way back. Of course, I picked up the phone and tried to call you right away, because by that time, I shared everything with you. It seemed natural... addicting. But you weren't home. I tried a couple times, but hey - it was Saturday night, I understood."

"Big of you," I said dryly, then immediately regretted it when I saw the look on Joe's face.

"Yeah, that's me all right," he agreed bitterly.

"I didn't mean it that way," I said quietly. "I'm sorry."

"No, you should mean it. It's true. You know, you once told me I was too easy on you, but from my point of view, it's always been you that's excused me. I mean, why the fuck are you even letting me in your house after I just deserted you like that, with the rape and..." He choked as the words caught in his throat.

"Stop it!" I moved over and grabbed him by the shoulders. "We'll talk about that later. We'll talk about all of it, but right now, let's take one thing at a time, alright?" I looked at him and watched as he struggled to get back his control. When I figured he'd succeeded I spoke again. "Now, tell me the rest of your story."

He nodded then cleared his throat and started again. "The first I thing I did when the team got back was to go over to your place. You still weren't there. I was a little disappointed, but I let myself in and thought you'd be back any minute. That was at 3p.m - by 4, I was asleep on the couch; by 7, I was awake again, and by 10, I was worried."

Joe yawned and I almost stopped him; he looked so tired. Maybe now wasn't the best time to discuss anything. But he saw my look and shook his head no.

"I'm okay, Mike," he said. "Believe it or not, it feels good to tell you this finally. It's such a relief."

"All right, but if you want to stop don't worry about it."

He shrugged. "No, I'm fine. Where was I? Oh, I remember.

"You showed up at 11 that morning, and I knew the moment I saw you that something momentous had happened, and I knew it had to do with Cam by the way you looked at him. I'd never seen you look at anybody that way - not even me. I was instantly so jealous I could barely breathe. Of course, I couldn't let you know that, so I just translated all that emotion into anger. Not exactly a hard trade, since I was pissed, but only at myself for feeling that way. You know the rest of what happened after that, but you never knew why."

I shook my head. "Not right away, no. But these last months, I've been doing a lot of searching through the past, and I wondered..."

Joe shrugged again. "You were always smart."

"Yeah," I said ruefully. "When I wasn't being a total dumbass."

He actually smiled a little. "I was the dumbass that night. Even then I knew what I was doing was unbelievably stupid. But the fact was, until that minute when you walked through the door, it'd never dawned on me that I'd ever have to share you with anyone. Oh, I knew you had boyfriends, but you were always so casual about it. You even told me a couple of times how you didn't ever see yourself really getting seriously involved with anybody. I depended on that being true. I should've known better."

"But you're the one who told me I needed more in my life!" I shot back, indignant at his last statement.

"Yeah, well... I thought we'd already established what a liar I can be," Joe said with a sigh. "Do you know I almost kissed you that night? I was so nuts about seeing you with Cam, I was ready to do try just about anything to make you see what a mistake I thought you were making - even to the point of telling you the truth about my feelings. But when put my arms around you, I suddenly realized that he'd been there first! I felt like he'd beaten me at a game I hadn't even known I was playing."

My eyes widened. Just as he said those words, I realized that was something else I'd known - somewhere deep in my brain, I'd known even then what he'd wanted to do. I'd just buried it like so much else I'd buried about my true relationship with Joe.

"And deep down inside, I knew," he continued. "I knew that however much I might think I wanted you at that moment, I really wasn't prepared to give up everything I'd created about myself... not even for you." 

"And that wasn't fair. At least Cam was sure of who he was. If you two didn't make it, it wouldn't be because he'd never given it a fair shot. I couldn't say that about myself."

He looked at me and smiled sadly. "It was probably the one time in this whole mess when I was honestly thinking of you and not being a selfish prick."

Jesus Christ, I thought, suddenly angry. Couldn't you at least have given me the opportunity to try and change your mind? Then I stopped that train of thought before it could consume me. Of course he couldn't, and why would he have thought I'd even want it? It wasn't like I'd been any more honest with him about my own feelings. Hell, at the time he was describing, I hadn't even been honest with myself! Seems like we had a lot more in common then I'd ever believed.

I struggled to my feet, still weary from the day's activities. Nothing was going to get resolved tonight, that was clear. I was worried that we were both so exhausted that we could inadvertently make it worse. Joe's little confession might be good for him, but it was starting to piss me off, and that wasn't the way I wanted our reunion to go. We had a lot of baggage to sort through, but it wasn't all going to happen in one night.

"Okay, enough," I said, raising my hands in surrender. "All my hair shirts are at the cleaners, so we can't continue this conversation until I get them back." I leaned over and grabbed Joe's arm and dragged him up to his feet. "I'm about to fall down dead from lack of sleep, and so are you. We can't solve anything if we can't think clearly."

Joe started to protest, but a yawn caught him in mid-word and he stopped and smiled at me sheepishly. I remembered suddenly that I was in love with the guy. I pulled him to me and wrapped my arms around him tightly. After a moment he put his arms around my neck and buried his face in my shoulder.

I felt my anger melt. Maybe we wouldn't exactly make a poster for the perfect gay couple, but what we did have was worth trying to build on. I hugged him tighter and felt my heart swell when he returned the favor. Yeah, I thought. I was in love with Joe and he seemed to feel the same about me. Life really is beautiful
.
We stood like that until we started swaying. He looked up at me. "If we stay like this much longer, we're probably going to fall down."

"I know," I agreed sadly. "But I don't want to let you go."

His mouth found mine and we shared a soft, sweet kiss. Surprisingly, there was no passion behind it on either of our parts. It was as if we both realized that we had the time to explore that side of us later, and that now was the moment of promise, not fulfillment.

He kissed me again and then we reluctantly broke apart. I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I came out Joe was still standing in the same spot I'd left him in.

"I thought you'd be ready for bed by now!"

Joe flushed and had a hard time meeting my eyes. "Well, I wasn't sure how we were going to work this."

I walked up to him and gentle tipped his face so he was looking directly at me. "Well, I thought first we'd strip, and then I'd fuck you silly."

His eyes widened. 

I laughed. "Jesus, Joe! You have got to get a sense of humor!"

He looked at me and blushed even redder. "Asshole," he muttered.

"Look," I put my arms on his shoulders and felt how tense he was. "I think we should just relax and take our time here. You're totally beat, and so am I. Why don't we just get some sleep for now, and then we can start to figure out where we go from here in the morning."

The muscles under my fingers relaxed. Joe nodded and then smiled shyly at me. "Thanks, Mike." He brushed his lips over mine. "I don't want to act like some virgin at a prom, but I guess I'm a little bit nervous."

"S'okay. If you want the truth, so am I, a little bit." I pointed towards his duffel. "Now, get your jammies on and come to bed."

I deliberately turned my back to him and walked over to the clothes hook on the back of my closet and started to strip. I was being honest - I was a little nervous. I wasn't even sure if I shouldn't just offer to sleep on the couch. God knows, I was totally ready for sex with Joe, but it was clear he was scared shitless. I figured he'd go through with it if I really pushed it, but sacrificial virgins had never been a turn-on for me. I was willing to wait - at least for a little while - until he'd gotten in his bearings.

I stripped to my boxers, but stopped there. I normally slept nude, but it didn't seem like such a hot idea tonight. I turned to see Joe standing there in his briefs too. From long habit, I started to avert my eyes. Then I stopped myself. What the hell was I doing? Maybe we weren't ready yet for the big event, but we sure as shit could check each other out.

After all, it wasn't like I hadn't seen Joe's body before. I had, but only in stolen glimpses. And even those didn't happen often. All the times he'd lived down the hall from me or borrowed my shower when he'd show up at my door after a workout session or a run, you'd think we would've been a little freer with each other. But I was always worried he'd think I was trying to make the moves on him, and he'd had his own concerns, as I knew now. But now, here he was, standing right in front of me, and finally I got a look at the man I'd fantasized about for so long.

He'd lost some weight since the last time I'd seen him, and he'd always been thin. Now, there wasn't an extra ounce of fat on his body. His chest was hard and lean, and he had a triangle of golden hair spreading across to his nipples. From there, it trickled down to a narrow arrow that dissected his naval, then continued south until it spread out again at the waistband of his briefs. His legs were heavily sculpted, long and toned, and covered with a light covering of down that matched the soft hair on his chest. My eyes followed the length of his legs to his long narrow feet and toes and then they reversed and covered the same ground until they stopped at the top of his thighs. He had quite a bulge there, and it stretched and weighed down the soft cotton knit of his underwear. As I looked I could see a twitch and I thought I noticed a thickening of the shaft, whose outline was plainly visible under the thin fabric.

I forced myself to stop from licking my lips and turned my eyes back to Joe's face. I suppose I was worried that I might be making him uncomfortable, but I shouldn't have worried. He was too busy looking at me to notice what sights I'd been taking in. His eyes flickered up and down my torso and when they stopped, my cock told me it knew it was being admired.

Now it was my turn to blush. Because unlike Joe, my distress over the last few months had caused me to gain, not lose weight. Not much, only 10 pounds or so, but still, I was no lightweight to begin with, and the new weight had settled into small love handles and a little thickness over my chest. Thank God, I'd been blessed with a naturally decent body, and the rest of me still looked toned and pretty fit. I was promising myself that this time; I really meant it about starting to work out when Joe interrupted my thoughts.

"Which side of the bed should I take?"

"Huh? Oh," I finally focused on his question. "I usually sleep on the right because of the phone and the alarm and all. That okay with you?" 

Well, at least he'd answered the question of whether we were going to sleep together that night.

"Sure," he replied, and walked over to the right side, pulled down the covers, and scooted in.

I watched as he did this and it suddenly hit me. This was Joe in my bed. I mean, in my bed! Right there, sprawled out underneath my official Spiderman sheets! And I had just told him that I thought it was a good idea that we get some sleep. Was I out of my fucking mind?

I turned off the overhead light, then slowly walked over and sat down on the bed. I could feel his eyes burning into my back. I reached over and turned off the desk lamp, and the room was suddenly illuminated with a pale blue light from the full moon outside. I didn't even have the dark anymore to try and convince myself that lump next to me wasn't a guy I'd been lusting after for four years.

Shit, I thought, this was torture! I wasn't even tired anymore. But, I reminded myself; I was going to keep my word. God knows how, but I was going to try. I swung my legs around and pushed them under the covers.

We lay next to each other - not touching, not saying anything, and barely breathing, if the truth be told. I didn't know about Joe, but to my way of thinking, this was turning into a goddamn long night. My head and my heart knew without a doubt that this was absolutely the right thing to do; I just wish my cock felt the same way. It was as hard as a baseball bat, and it was pointing directly at Joe's face, acting like a beacon to show me exactly where it should be right now.




The Human Condition Ch. 10



"Mike?" The sound of my name on Joe's lips made my heart lurch in my chest.

"Uh-huh."

"I think this is a good idea."

"What's that?" I mumbled.

"Uh," he searched for the words. "You know... us not rushing things."

"Sure."

"I mean... it's not like we don't have time now," he continued, though I wasn't sure if he was still talking to himself or to me. "And we've waited this long..."

"Absolutely right," I said, mentally willing my erection to deflate.

"It shows maturity, a real grasp of our knowing what's important."

"Yup."

"Oh for fuck's sake!" Joe whipped the covers back and straddled me. "To hell with maturity!" He smashed his mouth down on mine.

Okay, he had a point. Not that I was thinking that right then, mind you. I was too busy trying to suck his tongue down my throat to worry much about anything else. I snaked my arms around Joe's back and pulled him down until he rested on me - although, 'resting' wasn't exactly an accurate description of what either of us was doing.

Joe squirmed on top of me like he couldn't get close enough. This was just fine with me and I helped him along by moving my hands down to his ass and grabbing it, shoving his groin into mine. He gasped and raised his head to look at me.

"Wait a minute," he panted. "There's something I want to do."

He lifted his hips up. But before I could protest, I felt his hand slid down my belly and without missing a beat he shoved it right under that waistband of my boxers and squeezed tenderly.

"You like?"

"Oh, God - yeah," I sighed, as he clasped my shaft and began to stroke.

"Good, cause there's more," he let go and with both hands tugged at my shorts.

I, of course, was most helpful as I was just as anxious as he was to get rid of the only clothes that separated us. As soon as he was done stripping me, he peeled off his own jockeys and then he sat back on his heels.

"Turn on the light," he ordered in a husky voice.

I reached behind me to my nightstand, and after almost knocking it over, found the switch and twisted. The light pooled in a yellow circle over half of the bed. I was only interested in one spot that it illuminated however.

I'd heard other men describe someone as having a beautiful cock. I'd even been told that about myself a time or two, but I could never understand that term. Sexy, hot, powerful, erotic... those were the adjectives that had always come to my mind when I'd looked at another guy's dick, but never beautiful. Now, for the first time I knew what those other guys were talking about.

Joe had a beautiful cock. Only a shade or two darker than the rest of him, his cock was straight, smooth, and cut, and capped by a perfectly bell-shaped knob. He was probably close to my size, and his balls were good-sized and covered with soft golden blonde down.

Joe made no noise as I studied him. For a minute I was so absorbed in looking that I almost forgot that he was aware of my scrutiny. His cock had remained hard, though, and as I watched, a drop of precum bubbled up from the tip and dropped off to make a small pool on his belly. He sucked in his breath at the touch and I transferred my gaze to his face. His cheeks were flushed, but he looked me straight in the eye.

"Okay?" He whispered.

"Oh, yeah," I answered softly. "Perfect." 

Joe had been doing his own inventory and now he returned to it. I knew what he saw and I watched his face for a reaction. He finally noticed and flushed like a kid who'd been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to do, then he grinned.

"You're bigger than me."

I shrugged. "Maybe a little longer, but I think you're thicker."

Joe was back to staring at my cock. "We can get out the measuring tape later," he murmured. Then he dove down and took my whole tool in his mouth, and promptly gagged.

I grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back. "Easy there, stud," I laughed.

"Jesus Christ!" He sputtered. "How the fuck does anybody ever do that?"

"Practice and determination," I hauled up until he was face to face again, then I kissed him. "But hey, I appreciate the effort."

"It didn't seem so complicated when I was on the receiving end," Joe smiled wryly. "I want this - God knows it's all I've been thinking about for weeks," he continued. "But it's been a long time since I've felt this stupid about sex."

I shook my head. "You're doing fine." I kissed him lightly on the mouth and felt his lips quiver. "The rest we'll just figure out as we go along." He was tensing up and I worried that maybe it would have been better to wait.

His next words made think I was right. "But what if we can't?" he moaned. "Oh God, what if I'm too uptight? I don't know now if I'm gonna be able to do this!"

Joe started to draw away again, but I held him in place. Whatever should have been was in the past, and there was no going back now. If he needed a little seducing, then fine - I'd do that. But there was no way I was going to let him stop at this point. It would just make things that much more awkward later.

"Let me see if I can convince you," I murmured softly. "Maybe I just need to refresh your memory."

I gently ran my fingertips up and down his upper arms. Joe shivered and I kissed him gently then pulled back and studied his face.

"Okay?"

He nodded.

I pivoted our bodies and gently pushed him back until he sat down on the bed. "Tell me if I go too fast," I told him.

I knelt in front of him and studied his body. God, he was beautiful! It was all I could do to keep from grabbing him. But I'm a quick learner, and I wasn't about to push him into being any more uncomfortable than he already was. Instead, I contented myself with just lightly stroking his chest, tracing the line of muscle that lay just below his skin. Almost by accident I ran a fingertip over a nipple. Joe sucked in his breath at the touch.

That seemed promising so I slid my hand to his chest hair and pulled on it lightly and he arched his back and closed his eyes. Encouraged I moved my fingers to a small taut nipple and tugged on it. He yelped and I watched as his cock throbbed.

"Ah, you're one of those guys?" I said playfully.

"Huh?"  

"Your tits are hardwired to your cock," and to prove my point, I rubbed it again only to have the satisfaction of seeing the nub swell and redden.

"No! I mean, yes... God, I don't know - I've never..." He gave up and arched his back and moaned quietly.

I smiled down at his startled eyes. "Good. It gives me something to work with."

I followed up my words with a hand to his other nipple and gently tweaked it. Joe just groaned and thrashed some more. It was too good an opportunity to pass up, so I leaned in and gently tugged on the first nub with my teeth.

"Shit! Don't stop!" He hissed.

Not a problem. I licked and sucked and bit until I could tell my boy was just about out of his mind. But even though I could have been happy doing just that all night, I was on a mission, and I wasn't going to be sidetracked.

I rose up to my knees and crawled into the center of the bed and held out my hand. Joe shook his head as if he was trying to get it back on straight. Then, slowly, he realized if he wanted any more, he was going to have to come to me.

He sat up and grinned. "You can be a real hard-ass, can't you?"

"Oh, you have no idea." Then I grabbed his arms and roughly pulled him to me.

I found the small of his back and pressed our chests together. I sprawled over him pushing him back into the pillows and kissed him hard. He made a little moan in the back of his throat as I sucked the breath out of his lungs then blew it back. I repeated the breathing trick until both of us were starved for oxygen. We broke our kiss only because it was that or pass out.

"Convinced?" I could only manage the one word.

"Need... a little... more... data." He gasped.

"Damn scientists! So analytical," I muttered as I searched for, and found, his earlobe and bit it gently.

"Oh God, that's incredible!" His groin ground into my hip; I could feel his cock hard and pulsing against me.

"Hmmm, another hot point to file away." I raised my head and met his eyes.

Still panting, we stared at each other. I could see all his questions, all his doubts, but I could see need, too. I lowered my head and sucked his soft lobe back into my mouth with gentle lips.

Joe groaned and pulled me tighter to him. Slowly, I moved my hand from around his back to his hip. Then I pulled back and watched his face as I brought it further, dragging my fingers through his pubic hair, pulling ever-so-slightly until his hips squirmed. Joe's eyes widened as he felt me reach his shaft.

I watched a muscle by his mouth twitch in an involuntary response to my touch and I encouraged it by wrapping my fingers around his rock-hard flesh and giving it a light squeeze. He shuddered and his eyes widened, but still we didn't break our gaze. Then I started to stroke... up and down, up and down... and I saw his eyes dull as lust finally grabbed him.

I didn't want to make him cum with my hand. It wouldn't have been new; he'd already done that before with a guy, half a lifetime ago. I wanted to mark him, imprint him; start us out with a first for Joe. 

I took my hand off his cock and was gratified when his hips followed it, trying to get me to return to his center of pleasure. I pushed him further into the pool of light from the lamp. Bright light wasn't strictly necessary for our pleasure, but again, I wanted to push him, to make sure he knew that he was with me: Mike, a man.

I sat back on my heels and let him take another good look at my cock. He said nothing, but when I held out my hand, he took it and pulled me down until I sprawled on top of him. I shifted my hips and for the first time our cocks touched.

Joe arched his back and twisted his head, his eyes screwed tightly shut, then both of us froze as we fought the desperate need to shoot, which the electric contact had instantaneously created in us. I felt his heart pounding in his chest and I realized it matched mine, beat for beat. A long minute later I moved my head and found his lips already open, already inviting me in.

That kiss went on forever and still it was over too soon. But my full weight on Joe finally got the better of him and he struggled under me until he finally got his hands on my shoulders and pushed gently. I let go of his mouth with a gasp and looked at him.

"I'm sorry," he panted, "I can't breathe."

"Sorry," I said, rising up on my elbows. "Let's see if I can't find a way to solve the problem."

I moved farther up off his chest and bent my head down and nuzzled his neck. Joe sighed and his arms wrapped around my neck. I licked and teased my way down to his collarbone and then looked up at him.

"Better?"

"Oh God, yes!" He groaned and then yelped as I took a nipple in my mouth and bit down gently.

Joe slid his arms down my back and stroked me gently. I shivered under his touch, but I wasn't concerned about getting off myself. My whole being was concentrated on Joe's body and Joe's pleasure. I could feel his erection pressing into me, the heat of it searing me. His precum flowed out of him, leaving a sticky trail on my belly as I slid further down on his sweating chest, leaving his nipples to dig my tongue in his navel. It tickled him and he laughed and then groaned as my tongue finally found the tip of his cock.

His taste was salty and sweet and instantly addicting. I lapped it up like a thirsty dog. Joe said nothing, but his breath was coming in short gasps now, and I knew he wouldn't be able to last much longer. My hand slipped to his sack and rubbed gently as I took his entire length into my mouth, feeling that familiar bump as the glans hit the back of my throat. His hands came down to my head. He didn't hold me, though, but only gently stroked my hair.

"Mike," he whispered hoarsely, "please... you've got to stop. I'm gonna cum."

I lifted off him with a wet pop and looked up at him and grinned, then I took him back in my mouth. I ran my tongue over the underside of his shaft and tasted the hard sweetness of him and I felt my own balls rise as the reality hit me: This was Joe I was making love to!

I moaned deep in my throat and he answered with a gasp. His hips were thrusting uncontrollably now, forcing his cock deep into my mouth. I loved it and pushed down, trying to take every bit of him inside me. I was lost now; there was nothing in my world except the feel of Joe... the smell of him... the slick, salty wetness of his skin.

"Mike..." Joe cried out and froze as his first shot landed on my tongue.

His cream tasted like heaven, but I don't think I was really a good judge at that moment. All I knew was that after four long years, I was finally making love with the man I'd always wanted. He filled me up and yet I needed more. I don't know how many shots he gave me; you don't count when you're feeling the way I was. All I knew - all I could think about - was that I wanted to live in that moment forever.

But of course, that wasn't going to happen. After a few seconds, I could feel him softening in my mouth. I'm always extremely sensitive after I climax, so I'm hyper-aware of doing anything that might destroy the pleasure that had just gone before. I opened my mouth to reluctantly let Joe's cock free.

"No," he whispered fiercely.

I raised my eyes and looked at him startled. He was propped on his elbow watching me. His face was flushed and his eyes glittered, but he shook his head when he saw the question in my eyes.

"Please... don't let go - not yet."

Since this went right along with my fondest wishes, I had no trouble complying. Gently, I suckled his cock. In a way, this was almost more satisfying than the heated passion we'd just experienced. Cautiously, I licked at his tender skin, cleaning him while I searched his face for discomfort.

There wasn't any. Joe watched for a moment, then with a sigh, leaned back and closed his eyes. I wondered if he was actually drifting off to sleep. But a few moments later, I felt strong arms pulling me up until I was at face level with my new lover. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to him.

"That was... amazing," he said, drawing a long sigh of contentment. "If I hadn't already loved you, that might've done the trick."

Automatically, he leaned down to where my head rested on his shoulder and searched out my mouth. I opened my lips under his and watched, trying to gauge his reaction, as he tasted his own cum.

I broke the kiss and smiled. "What do you think?"

He considered the question for a moment and I could see he was running his tongue around the inside of his mouth. After a few seconds he grinned back at me.

"You know, I'm not completely innocent. I have tasted myself before."

I pretended to be disappointed. "Well, then, we're just going to have to think up another new experience for you tonight."

He raised an eyebrow. "Hmmm, what did you have in mind?"

"I thought," I said carefully, "that maybe I'd let you make that decision."

"Okay." He sounded thoughtful, but not, thank God, as nervous as he'd been ten minutes ago. He looked my body up and down, as if studying it. "I know what I'd like to do. I'm just not sure I'm really qualified to give the job the, uh... proper attention it deserves."

I laughed lazily even as my heart pounded in anticipation. "Don't worry about that. There're extra points for enthusiasm."

"Then maybe this might just turn out okay," he murmured before pressing his mouth to mine again.

Now it was my turn to lie on my back. And this time, Joe didn't attempt to take everything in one big gulp. Instead, he seemed to think it would be best to drive me crazy with his slowness.

It worked.

At first, he tasted every inch of skin from my hairline to my toes. Except, for those oh so important inches that strained to get his attention at every opportunity. When he was done with that, he proceeded to really make me insane by demanding I turn over so he could finish off the job. The fact that in the meantime I was on the verge of exploding didn't seem to bother him a bit.

It wasn't until I was moaning like a five-dollar whore that he finally took pity on me and had me roll over again. And even then he didn't try to put his mouth on my favorite body part. It was a good thing I was past the point of speech, or he might have heard a few things that would have shocked even his jaded ears.

"Spread your legs," he finally commanded.

This seemed like a really good sign, so I decided to do him one better and not only spread my legs, but lifted them until my knees rested on my chest. I'm always nothing if not accommodating, and if Joe wanted a clear shot, I was sure as shit going to give it to him.

He raised his eyebrows and the bastard had the nerve to laugh. "Jesus, Mike! I didn't know you were this easy."

I just growled at him and I think he realized that his life was going to be in grave danger if he didn't make his move. The next thing I knew, I felt a hand on the base of my shaft and a hot, wet mouth enveloping the rest of it. I moaned and it was all I could do to hold still and not thrust hard enough to poke a hole through the back of his head.

"Mmmmm," he hummed sending quakes of lust through my body and then he popped his mouth off of me and grinned. "Now, I think I'm getting the hang of this." Then he slurped at my corona with his tongue and watched as I writhed.

I'd like to tell you that Joe was absolutely perfect in everything he did, but... well, this is real life we're talking about, and things just don't go that way the first time for anything - especially sex. He couldn't get more than the first few inches of my dick into his mouth without choking, and I know he scraped me with his teeth more than once. But none of that mattered. It was still the best goddamned blowjob I'd ever had, bar none. Because I found out that night that skill has nothing on need, and I needed Joe more than I had ever needed anything else in my life.

At one point, I managed to prop myself up on my elbows and we made eye contact. He was serious now, his whole being concentrating on giving me the pleasure that was as important to him as his own. I understood that. It was exactly the same feeling I'd had just a brief time before. As I felt a familiar warm wave begin to rush out from my groin, and my balls tightened and my cock swelled, I groaned out loud and struggled to keep watching, to see his face as the first blast hit the back of his tongue. His eyes widened momentarily, and then darkened with an emotion that sent a warmth to my heart that had nothing to do with my orgasm, even as stupendous as that was. And then I was lost, carried away in a moment of lust and love and the thought that this was only the beginning.

Joe had collapsed. His head rested on my hip, his mouth still inches from my now soft, but sated cock. I wanted to pull him up to me, to feel his lips on mine, but my body was still in that state of bliss that wouldn't allow it to even think of moving, wrapped in a wave of pleasure that seemed to vibrate and envelop the entire room.

We lay there silent for a few moments. I couldn't tell you whether it was five minutes or an hour, but eventually, I felt him stir. I looked down to see his eyes were open and watching me. He smiled.

"Hi," I said in a thick voice I barely recognized. "How ya doing?"

He stretched lazily and then crawled up carefully until he was lying full out on top of me. He kissed me and now it was my turn to taste my seed on his tongue. It was an experience I wanted to experience again and again for the rest of my life.

"I think the question should be," he said when he finally broke the kiss, "how are you doing?"

"I love you," I said simply.

"Then I was... okay?"





The Human Condition Ch. 10



I thought he must be joking, then I saw the real concern in his eyes.

"Jesus, Joe," I said, as I stroked his hair. "If it'd been any better, you would've had to send for the paramedics to revive me."

He smiled and I saw the relief flicker over his face, though he tried to hide it by reaching down and grabbing the covers and pulling them over us. He settled back down in my arms and sighed.

I nuzzled his neck and took a deep breath, taking in the pungent aroma of sweat and sex that emanated from Joe.  And underneath it all was the aroma of the man I'd been dreaming of.  Essence of Joe, if I could figure out a way to bottle it, I'd make a fortune.

"I thought when you made me cum, that it was the ultimate experience of my life," he murmured. "But watching you as you came, seeing what I was doing to you..." He paused, then looked into my eyes. "That was something else again. I never knew it would be this good."

I smiled. "What? Gay sex?"

Joe shook his head slowly. "No. Sex with the person you truly love."

He sighed again, then yawned and closed his eyes. I watched as his breathing slowed and his muscles relaxed. And instead of moving away, as so many lovers of mine had done in the past when sleep had claimed them and they didn't need to pretend any more that they cared, he moved closer and draped his arm around my back.

This had started out as such a shitty day. Hell, the whole year had been one long string of calamities. I'd fought back, though - harder than I'd known I could. And now, here lay Joe - my Joe. It was hard for me to take in; hard to even believe it was real. But he was real and he was here. I vowed to myself that I'd do whatever it took to keep it that way, forever.

To be continued...

Author's note:  Thanks again to Marc for his extraordinary efforts to edit my very rough copy.  Also a big kiss to Keith Mystery who reminded me that even romantic sex has its funny side.  And a big thank you to all of you who continue to write me and let me know that you care about this story. 

Jayne 



The Human Condition Ch. 11



I left Joe turning slowly on the tire swing and walked into our shared home office and logged onto the Internet to check my email. 

Yeah, I admit it; I'm hooked. Funny when you know that I made fun of Joe when he first got so caught up in the Net. I never even had a screen name until a few years ago. Amazing when you realize that I've been using computers for my work since the late 80's. Or maybe that was the reason. After all that tedious crap, I just couldn't figure out how they could be any damn fun.

But Joe finally convinced me to at least try and pretty soon I found myself addicted. I try to control it, and only do the whole cyberspace surfing, games, music, hi to my good friend, Eddie in New Zealand, one or two nights a week. But email doesn't count and I find myself checking compulsively, deleting spam and looking for messages from people I probably wouldn't even keep in contact with, if it weren't for the Net. 

Joe came up behind me and looked over my shoulder. "Anything interesting?"

"The Men's Institute of Lucerne says they can guarantee to make my penis grow by 30% in just seven days."

"Big deal," Joe snorted and slid his hands around my waist. "I can make it bigger than that in just 5 minutes." And as if to prove it, he slid his hands under the waistband of my shorts.

God was I tempted, but I sighed and stepped back away from his talented hands.  "Much as I'd like to see you make good on that, we'll have to leave it for later. We should get our gear together, they'll be here any minute."

Joe groaned.  "Does it make me sound like a shit if I say I wish we could get out of this?"

I shook my head no. Because honestly - I felt exactly the same way. Last night and this morning had been so nice, so peaceful. Joe and me - alone, no family, no friends, no commitments to anything, but each other. It had been too long since we'd been this selfish and one night and a morning hadn't been nearly enough to make me happy.

"Listen," Joe said. "Let's plan a long weekend for July, just us."

I grinned, I'd been wondering when he was going to try and work this in. "When?"

"Um, the twenty fourth?"

I shot him a look and noticed his flushed cheeks. If you were to ask him, Joe would deny having a romantic bone in his body.  But it wasn't me that always seemed to magically plan something special for us on our self proclaimed anniversary. 

I frowned like I was thinking about it. Actually I always kept that whole week free, just in case 

"Sounds good," I finally shrugged, pretending I didn't know what this whole deal was really about - because that is how we play this game. "It's a date."

"Cool," he grinned. "And I know just where we can go."

"And where might that be?" 

"Well, Lucy told me she wasn't renting the carriage house this summer..."  

I laughed. "Don't you think we're a little young to start taking trips down memory lane?"

Joe growled and pulled me to him. "Fuck memory lane, all I know is there's no phone and nobody would ever think to look for us there."

Which was bullshit and we both knew it. Before we'd leave, we'd give Lucy's number to half a dozen people and then we'd still take our cell phones and at least one back up pager. But it was a nice gesture, going back to our first home together. And if it turned out anything like our first weekend their together, both of us would be very satisfied...

July 25, 1989

I thought I was dreaming. Joe was leaning over me, grinning his Cheshire cat smile. The sun was shining through the windows and backlit him so his tan skin glowed. I smiled. I liked this dream! But when I closed my eyes again to keep it going, it was his voice that spoke to me. 

"No way you bum! You do not sleep when I'm starving. Get your ass out of bed so we can get some food."

My eyes flew open. God, it wasn't a dream. Then it all came back to me; everything about the night before. I opened my mouth to speak, but Joe waylaid that idea by kissing me.

"Good morning!" He laughed. "How are you this bright and beautiful morning?" He knelt by the side of the bed and propped his head on his hands.

"Jesus Christ!" I whispered hoarsely. "When did you turn into Susie Sunshine?"

"Today, just now," he kissed me again and tried to stick his tongue in my mouth, but I pushed him away.

"Hey, no fair," I grumbled. "You already brushed."

"Yup," he agreed amiably. "And showered and shaved." I noticed then he was only wearing a towel.  "Now get your ass out of bed so we can go get something to eat."

"With what?"

"Huh?"

"No car, remember? That's why I had to pick you up with Lucy's. And I know she has plans today, so I can't borrow it again."

"Oh," Joe sat back on his heels and thought about it for a minute. "Well, go get prettied up anyway.  I'll figure something out."

He kissed me again hard and fast, and then stood quickly and went to look in the fridge. I could have told him he was wasting his time, but I was too busy admiring his ass and wondering how long his good mood was going to last. 

Not that I was complaining. Shit, it was a relief. I'd been half worried that this morning might have been awkward. Joe wouldn't be the first guy who regretted deeds done in the dark of night. 

Oh well, I shrugged and stood and only then remembered my hard-on that was no doubt making it's usual morning appearance. I looked down. Yup.

"Are you up yet?" Joe turned away from the empty fridge where he'd been squatting. 

Since he didn't bother to stand, this put him in direct line of sight with my cock. I watched as he flushed, but that seemed to be the only evidence that my display might be having any effect on him. In fact, his eyes were cool and appraising, and when they finally lifted to meet mine, there was humor in them as well.

"Yeah, I guess you are," was all he said, and then he smiled and turned back to the kitchen to root through the cupboards. 

Yup, I thought, he is adjusting nicely.  It appeared that now that Joe had finally made his decision he wasn't going to waste any time pretending otherwise. I smiled to myself, as I remembered again how he'd been last night in bed when we made love for the first time - and the second - and the third. Nah, he wasn't wasting any time.

I shuffled to the bathroom and started the shower running. Then after staring at it a minute, I turned it off again. On second thought, I had a better idea. Instead, I shaved and brushed my teeth, and took care of the rest of my preparations for whatever the day might bring. I didn't dress though. I wasn't sure what Joe was thinking of doing, but I sure as hell wasn't going to discourage any possibilities. 

I wrapped a towel around my waist and went into the main room. Unfortunately Joe had not only rummaged through my kitchen cupboards, but had also taken a minute to throw on a pair of jeans. Well damn! I sighed and went to my dresser and pulled out a pair of sweats. It was probably for the best, at least comfort wise, but I was still disappointed.

Joe was at the stove cooking something that smelled great though where the hell he'd found real food in my kitchen was anybody's guess. I walked up behind him and peaked over his shoulder. 

"Mmmm, smells wonderful, what the fuck is it?"

"Corned beef hash. You had a can of it in the cupboard."

I shrugged. "If you say so, my mom always sends that kind of crap with me whenever I go home. Most of the time I never even look at it."

"Obviously," he said dryly. "I think I unpacked this when you moved in."

"I doubt it," I snorted, as I grabbed some plates and silverware for the table. "The way I remember it, the only thing you unpacked was the pizza."

I sat down and watched as Joe split the hash onto our plates, then went back to the stove and grabbed another pan and walked back over. He used a spoon to carefully scoop up a white gelatinous mass that wiggled alarmingly as he slid it onto the pile of hash on my plate.

"That's disgusting."

"It is not. It's a poached egg and it's good for you."

"Whatever you say Felix."

It took him a second, but he finally got The Odd Couple reference. "Asshole." He slid the remaining egg on his plate and sat down to eat.

I watched as he took a bite and then closed his eyes in appreciation.  Suddenly, I forgot about being hungry. I was too busy staring at Joe to worry about something as mundane as food. Joe, who was here, with me, this morning - full of jokes and smart-ass comments - sitting across from me at this table, eating my food - things we'd done a hundred times before. It was all so familiar, so normal, and yet, everything had changed. 

"What are you smiling at?" He asked. I focused on his eyes and watched as he got a little flustered, and I felt my heart flip over in my chest when I realized that I could make him blush like that.

"Eat your breakfast," his tone was gruff, but I could see the smile playing around the edges of his mouth. "It's getting cold."

Obediently I took a bite. "Hey," I looked at Joe, "this is really good."

He shrugged, but he smiled.

"I had no idea you could cook."

"This is not cooking," Joe snorted. "This is opening a can. But yes, now that you ask, I'm a pretty fair cook. I just never lived any place where I needed to show it off before."

The coffee maker had been chugging away this whole time, but now it gave a loud gasp to tell me it was done. I went over and fetched us both a cup. 

"So that's what you're planning on, living here?" I was teasing, but he answered half seriously.

"If you'll have me," Joe smiled, but in back of his eyes was a little flicker of uncertainty. 

He had nothing to worry about. The thought of him living anywhere else had never even occurred to me. 

"Well, let's make it for a trial period, shall we? Like the next 50 years or so?" I raised my eyebrows questioningly. 

Joe grinned happily. "It's a deal."

I lapped up the last of the hash. "But you have to cook."

"Hey, I thought this was supposed to be an equal partnership?"

"You," I went over and grabbed his empty plate. "Were misinformed."

I went over to the sink and filled the dishpan and gave it a squirt of soap. Joe brought the rest of the dirty pots and pans over to me.

"You wash, I dry?" He said.

I turned off the water and carefully dried my hands. Then I turned to him and wrapped my arms around him. I waited a minute to see what his reaction would be. He just grinned.

"No, they soak and we ignore," then I added suggestively.  "I have other plans for us."

"Oh really?" Joe tried to sound sexy but his eyes told me he was still a little nervous. Sure we might have sucked each other's cocks the night before - several times. But daylight was different. And we both knew it.

"Uh huh," I pushed myself closer to him and twisted around so his back was pressing into the sink.

I pressed my groin to his and was gratified by the little lurch I felt under the worn denim of his jeans. I rotated my ass and ground in a little harder. 

"Sweet Jesus," he purred. "If this is the plan, then I'm all for it."

"Only the beginning," I murmured into the ear I was nibbling. 

Joe stretched his neck to give my mouth more room to work and laughed softly. "Goody. Shall we retire to the bedroom?" He waved his hand in the direction of my, no our bed.

I pulled back and looked at him. "I think I have a better idea."

I ignored his questioning look and slid my hand around the waistband of his jeans. I watched as his grin changed to a puzzled expression, as I didn't take the opportunity to grab him, but rather, turned my back and pulled him by his pants towards the bathroom. 

When we got to the doorway I turned back towards him. "You still owe me a shampoo."

Light dawned in Joe's eyes and then they darkened as the suggestion took hold in his mind. Now it was his turn to pull me towards him and his kiss was fierce.

"You're right, and this time, I plan on finishing what I started."

His hands slid down over my ass and he pushed my sweats over my rump until gravity took over and they fell into a pile at my feet. I returned the favor by using both my hands to unsnap his jeans. Then looking at his face, I watched every click of the teeth register as I slowly lowered his zipper.

We were still in the doorway, but now we both moved to go into the bathroom at once and... 

"Damn!" Joe laughed as our shoulders got stuck in the doorframe. "Are you sure we can both fit in here?" He pointed to the room in general and the shower specifically.

"Trust me, we can fit," I assured him. "We just have to turn in unison and make sure not to make any sudden moves." I gently pushed him into the room. "And we have to be willing to be close - very, very close."

"Mmmm, I like the sound of that," Joe practically purred.

I turned on the shower and then, knowing the limitations of my water heater, didn't waste any time stepping in and dragging my boy with me. The feeling of his naked and suddenly wet skin caused a shiver to run through me even though the water had already reached it's optimum heat. Joe was behind me and he snaked his hands around my chest and squeezed me to him. 

"I guess there is something to be said for small spaces," he murmured into my ear and then gently bit down on my lobe. 

"Oh yeah!" I moaned happily.

Reluctantly he let go and reached for the shampoo and filled his palm with a big dollop. A second later he began kneading my scalp. I bent my head back as far as I could and let him show off his specialty. The last time he'd tried this, I'd been too tense to fully appreciate how talented he was, but now I could feel my muscles relax as he worked the suds through my hair. 

"You know," Joe whispered. "I used to dream about doing this when I was in Italy. Some nights I'd wake up and I could swear I could feel your hair tangled in my fingers. I love how it's so silky, and how the ends get all twisted and curly around my fingers."

That surprised me a little. I was still wearing my hair down to my shoulders and I'd been half expecting Joe to make some smartass comment about that.  

"You still have it long, I see," there was that mind reading trick of his again.

I sighed ostentatiously. "Okay, I give up. I'll cut it."

Hey, I was in love with the guy. He liked my hair short. If cutting it would make him happy, then I could make the sacrifice. And if the truth be told, I was getting tired of frogging around with it, though I wasn't going to tell him that.

"Don't do it on my account," Joe said.

Huh? "I thought you hated it so much?" I struggled to turn around until we were facing each other. 

Joe grinned sheepishly. "Well, um, yeah - I said that..."

I looked at him until a dull red stain showed on both of his cheeks. "You shit!" I said as the light dawned. "Are you telling me you actually liked it all this time?"

"Look," he pulled my head back under the water and started to rinse - mainly, I'm sure - so I wouldn't be able to look at him anymore. "I told you I was a liar. This was one of those things I lied about."

I grabbed him and pushed him back against the wall and then leaned in. "So what's the truth here? How do you really feel about my hair?" 

"It's okay," he laughed, but he wasn't looking at me.

"Just okay, huh?" I got my face right into his and arched an eyebrow.  "I'm supposed to believe that?"

"Yeah, it's... nice," Joe waggled his own eyebrows back at me. 

"Nice? That's all you can say, nice?" I upped the ante by sliding a hand over his chest until I felt a nipple. I slid the nub between two fingers and lightly squeezed.

Joe's face immediately showed how much he liked that. "Umph! Okay, okay, I think it's hot."

"And so you don't want me to cut it off?" I rotated my palm, lightly twisting his nipple.

"Oh God," Joe sighed and pressed his rapidly filling cock into mine. "Don't cut your hair - don't change a thing."

"K," abruptly I stepped back and Joe almost whimpered. He may have been one of the slowest starters the world had ever seen, but now that he'd finally cleared the gate, the boy was putting his all into it.

I handed Joe a washcloth. "But your punishment for lying before, is you have to wash me."

I could tell by the expression on his face that Joe didn't think I was exactly a tough disciplinarian. He grabbed the soap and started to lather me up. After a couple of minutes, I wondered who was torturing whom here. He'd foregone using the cloth and was only using his talented hands on my slippery skin. He was very thorough, exploring every crack and cranny. It wasn't too long before our two rods were doing a sparing match that was going to end in both of them going down for the count if we didn't call an end to the round soon.

"Turn around," Joe's voice was husky. "I need to do your back." I was pretty sure he wasn't just talking about washing it either. 

I turned, but slowly. This may sound stupid, but for the first time I realized that Joe might be ready for something more than a blowjob, and it was not an altogether happy thought. Like I'd said before, I hadn't had anything in my ass since Elliot - before that, if you meant anything even approaching consensual sex. Even with Kevin and Saul, I'd noticed how careful they were around my backside, barely touching it, which had been okay with me. Yes, I wanted it again and of course I'd dreamed it would be with Joe, but I'd never considered it would happen so soon. 

Funny, I'd been so concerned about his being at ease, I'd never thought about my own issues. Now it seemed that maybe it wasn't him that was going to back away, but me.

"Joe, I..."

"Shhhh," his hand stroked my back and chuckled. "I just want to explore another side of you."

I relaxed a little and let my senses take over. I shivered as I felt his fingers brush the small of my back and then linger over one of my globes. He was delicate as he touched my surface with the soft soapy pads of his fingers, tracing skin and the muscle underneath. It tickled and yet at the same time it seemed to leave trails of fire that burned just under my surface. I realized I'd spread my legs and leaned up against the wall, shoving my ass further and further up in invitation. 

So, I thought, through the haze of heat, love really does overcome all obstacles.

Joe's hand stilled as he came to the raised and angry looking welt at the top of my hip. The rest of my ordeal might be just becoming a hazy memory, but Elliot had left me with a permanent reminder by way of a six inch scar that puckered and pulled and itched like crazy, deep down where no amount of scratching could reach. Gently I felt Joe's fingers trace the jagged edge.

"It's okay," I whispered. "The doc says it will take a while, but it should get better in time and if not, I can have surgery done to take out the extra scar tissue."

Joe didn't say a word. Instead he moved in closer and wrapped his arms around me. His cock slipped between my legs and I sighed as I felt it slide into my hot crack. I thrust back as he slid forward and the feeling was so exquisite my knees almost buckled. 

"Oh God," I gasped. "That feels so damn wonderful."

"I'll never let anyone hurt you again," Joe's voice was fierce, almost savage and I wondered how he much of that was a promise to me and how much was an acknowledgement of his own failings. At any rate, it wasn't something I was willing to pursue in the shower.

"Joe," I whimpered. "Right now the only thing I'm really interested in is that you've got your cock between my legs and it feels damn good! So do me a favor and just shut up and let me enjoy the moment." 

He squeezed me hard and then chuckled. "Okay, you have a point," and to prove it he thrust hips into me making me groan again. "How much hot water do we have left?"

The question brought me back to the real world. I stood upright and turned to face him. "Not enough," I agreed sadly. Much as I was suddenly sure I was ready for Joe to fuck me, I didn't want it to end up being a race against a cold shower.




The Human Condition Ch. 11



We rinsed off the leftover soap and got out of the shower. Both of us had left our towels in the other room so we padded out there wet and naked.

I went over to the bed where I'd thrown mine and Joe grabbed his off the floor by the couch. We were both in the middle of drying when he looked at me and grinned.

"I think we need to go shopping for a bigger water heater."

I laughed. "That might be a good idea."

I watched Joe watching me drying myself. His eyes were back on the whip mark and his face showed real distress. I sighed. Apparently, this was a conversation we couldn't put off any longer.

"Okay," I said resigned. "Talk to me."

"About what?"

"About whatever it is you need to talk about so we can get past this."

Joe was silent and I could tell he was really thinking about it. And as he thought, I took the opportunity to look at him. It was something I didn't think I'd ever get tired of doing and I felt like I'd been deprived of his face for so long. Now I scanned it greedily looking for changes and slight alterations. He didn't look as exhausted as he had the night before. The hollows in his cheeks and under his eyes were still there, but seemed softer somehow. I also noticed his lips seemed a little swollen and there was a slight red tinge to his chin where my beard had irritated the skin. I'd marked him and it pleased me. 

I was so caught up in admiring him, that it almost surprised me when he spoke.  "Are you really okay?" He asked softly. 

I looked at him. A million smart-assed answers were on my lips, but I held them back. If we were to have any chance, we were going have to start being open and honest with each other.  We'd wasted so god damned much time dancing around each other already.

"I'm getting there," I finally spoke. "It hasn't been easy, but I've had a lot of help from a lot of people and I think I can finally say I think it's going to be fine."

"You have no idea how much I regret that you can't include me in with that group," Joe's voice was soft and hesitant, but he never broke eye contact.

"Yeah, well honestly," I stared right back at him. "I wish that too."

He looked surprised, almost shocked, but if he thought I was going to just pretend we didn't have some baggage between us, he was dead wrong. One thing I'd learned in therapy - you couldn't let things fester unless you wanted to make them worse. We needed to deal with this and since he'd brought it up, I thought there was no time like the present. 

"Look Joe," I went on relentlessly. "I'm not going to pretend that I didn't miss you or wish that you could have been here to be my friend if nothing else."

Now he lowered his head, but not before I saw the tears in his eyes - and the shame.

"But it's okay, Joe, really," I went and knelt beside him and cupped his chin in my hand. "You know, for so long I thought you were just about perfect. When I thought about you it was as this ideal man who was big and strong and smart and always knew all the right answers."

He sniffled. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Nope, and it was damn uncomfortable sometimes, having to try and keep up with this image I had of you. So when you ran..." Joe groaned. "When you ran, it was a shock and it hurt, but at the same time it was almost a relief. Because for the first time I could think about you as a real person and not some golden image I had in my mind. And you know what was really surprising?"

"No," he whispered.

"I realized that I loved you even more than I thought I did. Because nobody can really be in love with perfection, it's too fucking boring."

That got a laugh out of him. "Well then you must be head over heels with me now."

"Oh yeah," I agreed and kissed him softly. 

He broke the kiss and smiled at me. "I want you to know that I swear my running days are over."

"They better be," I agreed. "Cause the next time I'll track you down like a dog, and it won't be pretty when I catch up to you."

I stood then and went back over to the bed and lay back on it. I thought that was probably enough truth for now. We'd have to talk about this a lot, but maybe - at least at first - it would be better to do it in small doses. 

"Now, where were we?" I wiggled my eyebrows at him and then spread my legs to give him a good view of what I wanted him to concentrate on next. "I remember, talking about shopping for a water heater"

Joe blinked, but I could see he was just as anxious as me to put the last few serious minutes behind us. Slowly he stood and threw his towel down on the floor and swaggered over to me until he stood there towering over the spot where I sat on the bed.

"Oh yeah," he smiled wolfishly. "A very good idea indeed. But I think it's going go have to wait for later."

"Really? You have plans for us?" I teased.

"My turn," he agreed. "You picked the last time."

"Sounds fair, I gue... Oomph!" I grunted as Joe tackled me, throwing his body right over mine on the bed.

For a minute we were all arms and legs. I wasn't sure if we were making love or starting a wrestling match, but whatever it was, it sure as hell was fun. Then Joe removed all doubt by pinning my arms over my head and kissing me. He had ended up on top again, but I didn't mind a bit. 

We meshed our hips together thrusting like two thirteen year olds who don't quite know how to go about things. But of course that wasn't the case - at least for me, and I decided to move things along. I raised my legs up until they were tucked almost into my pits. That put my ass on display nicely and Joe's next thrust slid over my hole making it twitch with delight.   

Joe was in a rhythm now and so was I. I was looking forward to the next step, when I realized Joe had stopped moving. I waited for a couple of seconds, but he didn't seem in any hurry to continue and since I figured I knew what the deal might be I decided to let him off the hook. 

"Look, if you're worried about what happened with me and Elliot, don't be. I mean, yes it makes me a little nervous, but..."

"No," he stopped me. "I mean yes, I'm concerned about that, but I figure you're not going to do anything you aren't ready for, and I'm sure as shit not going to make you, so I guess that's not really the issue." He stopped and took a deep breath. "The thing is that... Jesus, this is embarrassing, but... How the fuck do I do this?"

"You mean you've never...?"

He shook his head miserably. "Well there was one time with this girl, but... I'd rather not go into to it."

I stifled the urge to laugh. "Well first things first." I reached around and fumbled in my nightstand until I came up with the gay man's best friends, lube and condoms. I showed them to Joe and watched as he swallowed nervously.

"I'll just put these over here," I set them down in between the pillows. "That way they'll be near when we need them."

"You were a Boy Scout, weren't you?"

I rolled my eyes. "Not hardly, but I've always admired their motto," I pulled him to me and gave him a sloppy kiss. I stopped suddenly as a thought occurred to me. "You do want to do this don't you? I mean this is where you were heading right?"

Joe raised an eyebrow and looked at me like I'd just lost my mind. 

"Okay, just checking," I laughed, and waylaid any comments he might have had by sticking my tongue back down his throat.

With that kind encouragement, it didn't take him long at all to get enthusiastic again. I was amazed to find myself right back in the same position he'd abandoned a few minutes before. Again, I broke the embrace.

"Um Joe," I whispered in between kisses. "Joe, wait."

He groaned, "What now?"

"We need to get you suited up."

"Uh yeah, right," he said sheepishly. 

"And you need to get me ready," I grinned at the look on his face. "Don't worry, I'll talk you through it."

We both sat up and I reached back and grabbed the condom and lube. I looked down at Joe's lap. The sexual teasing we'd been putting each other through for the last couple hours was taking its toll. He could have punched a hole in the wall with his cock it was so hard. And I was starting to sound like I'd just finished the Boston Marathon.  As I watched a drop of precum bubbled up from his slit and started to drip down the side of his shaft. I reached down and with the tip of my finger smeared the slippery fluid down his shaft.

"Keep doing that," Joe warned. "And things are going to be over before they start."

"Hmmm, don't want that," I agreed. I handed him a condom and watched as his shaking hands refused to obey his command to tear it open. 

He saw me looking and grinned self-consciously. "You'd think I'd never done this before."

I took the condom out of his hand and popped it out of the foil. Then I took a dollop of lube and slicked Joe up. He hissed at the feeling, but said nothing.

"Well technically," I slid the thin latex down over his rod. "You haven't."

I handed him the lube. Maybe he wasn't experienced, but he caught on quick. He squeezed a blob of the slippery stuff on his fingers and shuddered, just from the contact. He looked at me and I could tell from his eyes that the reality of what we were preparing to do had just really sunk in. He didn't look a bit unhappy about it either.

"Warm it up," I cautioned, and watched as he slid it around for a minute doing just that. 

I lay back down on my stomach and spread my legs and waited. It didn't take him long to figure this move out too. I felt his hand sliding through my crack until his finger made contact with my pucker.

"Ohhhh yeah," I encouraged him.

He circled my center again and again, and then tentatively pushed. There was nothing tentative about me though and I raised my hips and impaled myself on his finger. His hand stilled.

"Go ahead," I said hoarsely. "Explore a little bit."

Obediently he wiggled his finger and laughed when he saw my corresponding shiver of excitement. "God it feels so soft," he sounded surprised. "I didn't know it would be like that, almost like velvet or suede or something, and the musculature - amazing."


Right, only I really wasn't in the mood for an anatomy discussion. "More," I demanded. "Put another finger in."

There was no hesitation this time as he added a second digit. I was glad to see that my muscles seemed to be waking up to the memory of what was required of them and relaxed after only a few seconds. But even so, it was a bit uncomfortable. It had, after all, been a very long time.

I grimaced. "You need to add some more lube."

He was instantly concerned. "Are you okay with this?"

"Yes, just need a little more grease," I assured him.

"Okay," he forgot about the chill and squirted a big splash directly on my ass and I hissed from the feeling. "Damn! I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I twisted and looked at him. "Just remember paybacks are hell."

His eyes clouded over momentarily and I swore softly to myself. Shit, not another Cam. I wasn't prepared to bottom for the rest of my life. One of the things being with Saul had convinced me of. Oh well, I thought, one step at a time and for today, being fucked was exactly what I wanted.

Joe had put his fingers back in me while my thoughts wandered and I was glad to see that now the discomfort was almost completely gone. "How much of this stuff is enough?"

"When you think you've used too much, that's probably just about right," I managed to say through my sexual haze. A pretty good accomplishment when you realized my brain was working with almost no oxygen.

Joe added another finger and when he did, he inadvertently rubbed against my hot spot. 

"Hummph," I grunted and got a grin in response.

"You like that?" Joe asked, and then to prove it to himself, he found the spot again.

"Oh god, yes," I pulled myself up on my side; careful to keep his fingers planted in my ass, and grabbed his other arm to bring him in for a kiss. When we finally came up for air, we were both moaning.

"It's time," I gasped. 

He pushed me back on my stomach and I pulled my legs up to my chest giving him an easy target. I felt the weight of him on my back and his now slippery cock slid home towards it's target and... 

"You're shaking," Joe stopped. "And I don't mean that in a good way."

He was right. Dammit! It was Saul and Kevin all over again. I could feel the panic swirling in my gut. Goddamn, Elliot and every rapist who ever lived, including all those guys who thought "No" was a relative term that didn't include them.

Joe wasn't one of them though. He was off me like a shot and then he grabbed my suddenly limp body and pulled me to him. "Mike, baby - it's okay," he stroked and cooed over and over again until I'd regained some of my senses.  

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I didn't think this would happen. I want you so fucking much!"

"Trust me, my love, I already figured that out," he grinned a sexy smile and we both laughed at the small joke.  At least it seemed to break the tension of the last few moments. I stopped shaking, and just to prove to both of us that I was fine, I pulled myself out of his arms. 

Joe watched me until he was satisfied I really was okay and then sat back on his heels and cocked his head. "So, what happened do you think? What set you off?"

So typical, I thought. Of course Joe would be like this - practical, accepting, calm. First take care of it, and then find out what happened so it could be avoided in the future. It was these instincts that were going to make him a great doctor someday. 

I sighed and thought about it for a minute. "I don't know, I think it was the fact that you were on my back and I couldn't see you. I suddenly felt trapped."

Joe nodded seriously and considered what I'd just said. "Okay, well maybe there is some way we can get around this," he studied my face. "Unless of course you don't want to try again so soon."

It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. "Are you out of your fucking mind?"

He laughed and then flopped back onto the bed and spread his arms. "Then take me, I'm yours."

I looked down at him. Mine. I shook my head - unfucking believable.  I was being offered a miracle and who ever turns down one of those? I leaned over and kissed him. 

This time it was Joe who stayed on the bottom and me who led the way. In the past this had never been a favorite position of mine, but now it felt right, I needed to be in control. Already Joe seemed to intuitively know what would please me most so he gave me that power. And although I could see by the clench of his jaw and the strain of his shoulders and the way his fists had gathered up the quilt underneath him, that it was damn near killing him to remain passive, he did it. 

Luckily, once I felt myself back in my comfort zone, I was just as eager as he was. So I straddled his hips and felt Joe's cock brush against my back and thrilled at the thought that soon that big hard piece of meat was going to be inside me. And this time there would be no second thoughts.

"You ready?" My voice was an octave lower than usual and sounded more like a growl than something human.

"Oh yeah," Joe sounded just as stressed.

I rocked up at the same time I reached around and grabbed him with my hand. Then slowly I aimed my ass at him. Like a bull's eye beckoning an arrow, we met. I watched Joe's face as I slowly slid down on the head of his dick. His eyes widened and then narrowed as the feeling of impaling me took over. 

It was a slow process, this consummation of our love. I may have been doing the driving, but I was still leery and I needed time to process everything my body was telling me. Thank god Joe wasn't as big as Cam. Although I'd always loved it eventually, the beginning of my fucks with him had always been an ordeal and I'd never really adjusted to his size. Joe, on the other hand, seemed to have been made for me. I felt full, but never to the point where I thought I would rip from the girth. It was such a relief. And when I was finally sitting on his hips I realized that for the first time, I'd been breached without losing my hard-on. 

But it was more than size that made this a much different experience. From the very first time on that damn seductive boat of Cam's, getting fucked had been a real ordeal for me. The act of submission - of spreading my legs, and my ass so another male could mount me was almost more than I could stand. Of course I did stand it - often and with great enthusiasm. But still, there had always been that moment, that point where I struggled, almost in panic, to expel the object in my ass. Because to be penetrated, to be taken that way, just never seemed completely right to me, regardless of how good it got me off.

Not this time. Not with Joe. As I felt him enter me, I didn't feel dominated. There was no thought that somehow allowing his cock into my ass made me less than him. On the contrary, to look down and watch the wonder and pleasure in his face, made me proud. I could give him this - me - no one else. It was love, it was sex, and most of all it was completion for both of us. And I knew that no matter what ever happened between us, that this feeling would be there in my heart for the rest of my life.

I finally had him all inside. I was shaking again, but this time, it was in a good way. Joe was covered in sweat and his breath rasped in fast gasps that showed in his rapidly rising and falling chest. I realized again that this was his very first time with a man and it was obvious that the experience had affected him profoundly. Again, I was amazed that he'd been so docile. I knew from my own experience that the first time is so overwhelming it's almost impossible to not get carried away. But he'd hadn't tried to hurry me along or showed any frustration when I hesitated again and again, taking time to let the feeling of being overstuffed go away. 

"I love you," we said it together.

Joe moved his legs restlessly and I could see that this was my cue. I wiggled a little and he groaned. I leaned down and grabbed his shoulders as a brace and then lifted my hips a couple of inches.

"Oh God," he twisted his head in a movement of unbearable pleasure.

My thoughts exactly.

I'd planned on taking this slow, reveling in all the feelings this first time for us was creating. Making a memory that we'd never be able to forget. Nice thought, but I found that once I'd started there was no way I was going to stop until the final explosion. Faster and faster I went, each time elongating my journey until only the head of his cock stayed inside me as I pulled out, hovering for just a second then slamming back down onto his hips. Joe helped me, thrusting up to get that extra bit, that little extra millimeter I seemed to crave.

My thighs were shaking under the strain and my sweat splashed onto Joe mixing with his own and gleaming in miniature puddles in the dips and contours of his hard body. Just looking at all that wet male flesh made my balls draw up and I knew it was time for some manual stimulation of my own dick. Joe had other ideas. He grabbed my hands and held onto them as he half raised and half pulled me down until our lips met for a hot, sweet kiss. I don't know if he'd known what would happen or if it was just dumb luck, but the change in position sent his cock charging over my prostrate and with a strangled cry that echoed in each of our mouths I came without ever touching myself.  

My ass pulsed, once, twice, and then I stopped counting as my dick jerked and spewed its load on our chests and stomachs. Joe yelled my name as my ass transmitted its joy to his cock and, with one more shout, he joined me in my newfound state of sexual delirium and filled the condom with his hot fluid.

"Oh Christ, oh Christ," he murmured into my ear after I'd collapsed onto him. "Oh God, Mike," he struggled to raise his head and look at my face. "Are you okay?"




The Human Condition Ch. 11



I blinked once, twice to get him in focus, and then I smiled blearily. "Well fucked," I said, then collapsed back onto him.  

We were silent then, both of us still twitching from the assault to our synapses. I felt his fingers spasmodically clutch at my buns, pulling me closer, his cock still half hard and imbedded in my ass. I wanted to stay connected to him like that forever, but it eventually occurred to my sluggish brain that I had my full weight on Joe and that couldn't feel good.

"Don't," Joe sounded sleepy, but firm.

I leaned back down and kissed him, but I kept shifting my weight until I felt his still semi-hard cock slid out of my ass. "Gotta baby. You're probably about 10 seconds away from smothering."

"I don't care," he protested, but the deep breath he took told its own story.

"Yeah, well I do," I snuggled up to him and sighed as he wrapped an arm around me. "See, I plan on having you around for a long, long time and I don't want to do anything to threaten that."

"Gee and I thought you were being purely altruistic here."

"Nah, this was selfish all the way."

"So," Joe yawned. "It was okay then?"

I shrugged and decided to follow his casual lead. "Yeah it was fine." 

Joe went absolutely still. I waited barely breathing for what might come next. Slowly his head turned and he looked deep in my eyes. I watched his lips twitch in response to what he saw, but that was his only reaction until he cleared his throat and started to speak.

"You know," he said conversationally. "You are the biggest smartass I've ever met and I'm going to make you pay for that."

I don't know where he found the energy after the morning we'd just spent, but suddenly his hands seemed everywhere, tickling me relentlessly, making me scream with laughter and then just gasp when I didn't have the breath for anything more. He ended up straddling me this time and he grabbed my hands and held them over my head and leaned in until his nose was only an inch from mine.

"It was fine..." he mimicked in a smarmy voice, then he growled and tightened his grip and glared at me. "You gonna tell me the truth this time or do you want more?" He threatened, even as he leaned in and stole a breathless kiss. 

"Ungh!" I twisted and struggled to get free, but it was no use.

Joe switched both of my wrists into one of his hands and let the other hover threateningly over my belly. "Last chance," he warned.

"Okay, okay," I laughed. "I give up. It was great, it was perfect - it was the best fucking orgasm of my life!"

Surprisingly, I didn't see the triumph I'd expected, but instead there was real doubt in his eyes.  He let me go and got off of me. Shit, once again I'd forgotten that this was all new to him. Of course he was vulnerable. 

"Joe?" He wasn't looking at me. In fact he'd turned his back.

"Joe," and now I raised myself off the mattress and moved over behind him and ran my arms around my chest. "I'm serious here. It was incredible."

"Well," he said grudgingly. "It's not like I can take much credit, you did all the work." But he relaxed into me and I could tell his doubts were fading.

"Do you know that never happened to me before?" I said.

"Huh?"

"At the end when I came," I explained. "I didn't even touch my cock, neither did you, didn't even rub it up against you or anything else. That never happened before."

"Really?" He turned and looked at me.

I nodded. "Never. Not even close. And contrary to what the porn stories say, I don't think it happens very often to anyone."

"Hmmm," he grinned. "That's pretty cool."

"And what about you?" I demanded. "I haven't heard much about what you thought."

"Well..." he hesitated. 

I knew it was my turn to hear some smart-ass comment about being so-so and braced myself. But Joe has always surprised me. I should have remembered that. 

"It felt like the rest of my life." 

In my life there are maybe a half a dozen really perfect moments. Joe had just added another to the list. Silently I opened my arms to him and we lay back down on the bed.

There were a million things I wanted to say and I imagine he had a few more pearls of his own to share, but the time for talk would come later. There are some emotions that words can't come close to expressing. We told each other more by the way we held each other, the way our legs tangled together, how our breathing changed into perfect syncopation, than we ever could have vocalized in any discussion no matter how long we talked. 

So, on a hot July day, in dusty apartment over a garage and in a bed that was really too small for us, we let each other know that we loved other and we were committed to each other and we would do our damnedest to keep it that way. And we did all of this without saying another word.

I fell asleep and so did Joe. I know this because I woke first. It was afternoon now and the sun came in and dappled patterns of light through the wavy glass and onto our bodies. Generally Saturday afternoons in the summer are busy, noisy times in this neighborhood, lawnmowers and kids yelling, and radios tuned to Tiger radio.  Today, however, it was quiet. The only sounds were an angry jay in the trees and the cicadas clicking away.

Joe slept on. His lips were parted slightly and the swelling I'd noticed earlier was even more visible now. I looked for other signs of our lovemaking and found them in a faint discoloration at his shoulder from a love bite and a splash of dried semen on his breast. We'd managed to at least dispose of the condom before we'd both totally fallen into a stupor, but that was about the only clean up we'd done.  

I got up out of bed and grinned when I felt the soreness that goes along with having a cock up your ass. Such a strange blend of pain and satisfaction - and knowing who had caused me to feel that way just made it better.

I went into the bathroom and wiped off the sticky patches as best I could. I thought about another shower, but I was too damn lazy and besides it would be more fun to share later. I rinsed out a washcloth in warm water and padded out of the bathroom and over to the bed. I hated to wake Joe, but at the same time, I couldn't stand the thought of not being able to look into those blue eyes for another minute.

"Ahhh," he murmured as I started to gently wipe down his body. "That feels sooo good."

"It's time to get up," I whispered softly.

"I'm up," he moved his hips suggestively and I saw he was right.

"Yeah, but that's not exactly what I mean," though I had to admit it looked pretty tempting.

"Okay," he agreed and finally opened those baby blues. "What's for lunch? I'm starved!"

"Jesus, is that all you think about? Sex and food?"

"Yup, and in that order," and to prove his point he grabbed my arm and pulled me down for a kiss.

We might have gone on from there, but one of our stomachs growled.  I never did figure out who's. So we quit with the necking and sat up and tried to figure out how we could prevent starvation with the minimum amount of fuss.

"Well, we could go out," I offered. "There's a little Mexi place within walking distance. Or you could call Beau and get your car. Then we could just go grocery shopping and get what we want." 

Joe nodded. I half expected him to pick up the phone and call Beau. That was the logical thing to do. He'd left his Bronco in his old roomie's care and all he had to do to get his wheels was let the guy know he was back.

"You know," he finally said thoughtfully. "You do have food. There's burger in the freezer and a jar of spaghetti sauce and all the fixin's for chili."

"That'll take too long," I whined. Now that we were talking about food, I realized how hungry I was.

"Then how about a pizza? We could just get delivery for one of those. Or maybe subs if you didn't feel like a pie."

"Pizza? Spaghetti? Jesus, Joe, aren't you sick of Italian food?"

"I haven't had pizza in six months," he protested. "It's not exactly a staple in Italy like it is here."

"Still," I insisted. "We really should figure out a more permanent solution to our food shortage."

"Mike," he bit his lip. "Could we just stay here for a little bit longer? Just the two of us?"

Now I got it. Of course, Joe was a little bit nervous still about making his homecoming public. Especially on the arm of his brand new boyfriend.

"No," he said reading my face. "That's not it. At least not the way you're thinking."

"If you say so," I slid off the bed and grabbed my sweats.

"Mike," he was beside me. "I swear to you, I don't give a damn about what people think."

I looked him straight in the eye. "Are you sure? I mean I wouldn't blame you, but I don't want to be lied to."

"I told you," he said softly as he took me in his arms. "My lying days are over. When we walk out that door, we'll do it together and to hell what anybody thinks. And it'll be fine you'll see."

I didn't think it was going to be that easy myself, but he looked so determined and I wanted to believe him. "Okay." I relented.

"But," he continued and this time he voice had the coaxing tone he'd used on countless women in the years I'd known him and it made me smile to think he was naïve enough to think it would work on me. "The thing is, that I'm not ready to share you yet. Can't we just be for a while, just the two of us? Can't we just have the weekend to ourselves before we have to go out and conquer the world?"

And all the time he was talking, he used that syrupy voice, his body moving in on me, rubbing my crotch with his, stroking my arms with his long lean fingers. My head swam and I realized that maybe I'd been the naïve one if I'd honestly believed I could resist this guy. What the hell, I told myself, it did sound like a great idea. 

It sounded even better an hour later when he was feeding me cold pizza in bed. Cold because we hadn't managed to do more than pay the delivery boy, before we felt the need to get naked and once we got naked well, you know the rest of the story.

And so it went: sex and food, food and sex. And in between there was a lot of talk. I finally got around to telling Joe most of what had happened to me in the months he'd been gone. He sat there white faced, but he didn't interrupt and in the end agreed that he'd go with me on Monday for my next appointment with Alice. 

He told me more about Italy too and also about his conversation with Betsy, which it seemed had been pretty much along the same line as the one I'd had with her. He was as guilty about her as I was, maybe even more if that was possible. Another topic we could share with Alice, I thought.

We also talked about more prosaic things. How we were going to work the living arrangements, what Joe was going to bring into the house - we even discussed really buying a new water heater. Joe was going to paint too and do some carpentry, another thing I'd never known he could do. He was going to ask Lucy if she minded him turning part of the downstairs into a weight room, since basically there was nothing down there but mouse traps. 

I would do my share when I could. And unlike cooking, construction was something I knew about. After all, my dad did own a hardware store and I had worked there through both junior and senior high. But now I was working full time at the law firm, so most of the renovation would have to be done by Joe and whomever he could con into helping him.

That was another thing we talked about. Cam. Joe was still unreasonably pissed off at him. I tried to make him see that, but it was going to take longer than a weekend to change his mind on that subject, if I could change it at all. I was going to have to try, I still worked with the guy and the funny thing was that now that we were absolutely not seeing each other, we'd finally become friends, something we'd never quite managed when we were dating.

Look, I could go on and on for pages telling you what we ate and how much we fucked and what we talked about, but I'm not going to. And in the end, those details really don't matter. What does is that in those two days Joe and I discovered each other. 


Before that weekend, what we'd had was the possibility of love. Maybe even the hope of it, but certainly no more. It wasn't until we were there, together, talking, laughing, crying - trading sweat and spit and cum that we finally knew that this really was what we wanted. 

But this little honeymoon of ours couldn't last. Joe was right, we were going to have to go out and conquer the world. Sunday morning when I stepped out on the porch to get the Free Press, I found a note taped to it from Lucy. She didn't say much, just that dinner was at three and she was expecting both of us. I walked back into the apartment where Joe was scrambling up the last of the eggs.

"Lucy has invited us for dinner today."

He didn't turn around but I saw his shoulders tense. "I suppose we have to go?" 

I nodded though he couldn't see. "I have a feeling this is a command performance."

Joe shrugged and took the pan off the stove and turned to look at me. "Well, I guess we should be grateful we managed this much time alone."

We ate in silence. Afterwards, I cleaned up while Joe went into shave. I hadn't noticed him taking any clothes in the bathroom with him, but he must have because he was dressed when he came out. It was the first time in twenty-four hours he'd bothered with more than a towel and I raised my eyebrows. 

"I thought I'd better go find Beau and get the car," he answered my unspoken question.

"You want me to go with you?"

He shook his head, "No, not this time," he smiled sadly. "Beau and I have some unfinished business and I think we should probably handle it with just the two of us."

"Okay," I probably knew better than he did what was going to happen, but he was right, it should be something they handled alone. "I'll call Lucy while you're gone and tell her to expect us."

"Good," he walked over to my desk and grabbed the grocery list he'd been working on since the day before. "Is there anything else you can think of?" 

"Not unless you're going to break down and buy me those chocolate Pop Tarts."

Joe grinned and came to me and gave me a big sloppy kiss. "In your dreams."

He sauntered over to the door and opened it. I smiled at him as he looked one last time at me. It was stupid, but I hated seeing him walk through that door, and I don't think it was my imagination that made me think he felt the same way. We'd had such a short time to be alone together. It hardly seemed fair to think it was already over. But it was, and wishing couldn't make it any different. 

Getting the truck from Beau, going to Lucy's for dinner, they would only be the first times we'd have to face people and let them know we were a couple. And they were relatively easy, because at least they were some of the few people who already knew what had gone on between us this winter. There were plenty of others who didn't. They would all have to find out, if not from us, from somebody.

As for our shared circle of friends, once Beau found out that Joe was back, it was only a matter of time before the rest of the guys would know. These were our best friends, it wouldn't be right if we didn't make some effort to formally let them know about our change in status. I didn't think anybody would really care or even be that surprised, but still it might be difficult, especially for Joe, who for all his bravado, was still getting used to the idea himself. 

"Mike?" Joe was still standing in the door. I looked at him and watched as he grinned at me. "It's going to be okay, you'll see." And then he put his hands up to his face and spread his fingers in a parody of an old Bob Fosse move. When he saw I understood, he winked at me and drawled. "It's Showtime."

Then he turned and disappeared into hot glare of the morning sun.