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If You Could Do It Again... Ch. 01-02

By: dagan732



Hi all, this is an edited version of the first part to my story. Just wanted to get all the mistakes out! Thanks to Juls and Nomoretears for their support and technical help on this one! :) As always, Vote and Comment! 

*

Paul sighed and stared out over the water. The Hudson River rushed by him as he stood on the back porch of his friends Todd and Eric's house. Remnants of the party blew about with the gusty fall air so that napkins and party hats floated on the wind with crisp, dried leaves. The early evening sun shone down on him, but was starting to get too weak to fight off the New York autumn cold. He lifted a hand to his mouth and took a drag of his cigarette. He heard the glass door slide open and shut behind him. It would be Todd, he thought. 

"Those things'll kill ya." Todd said.

"There are worse ways to go." 

"Not many. Eric's aunt had emphysema and toward the end she could barely breathe even on oxygen." Todd came to stand next to him. "Scary shit, man. Nothing I'd want to go through."

"Don't forget we get to pay ten bucks a pack for the privilege." Paul said and took another drag.

"I've always said you were a smart guy, Paul, but so stupid about some things."

"Hey, I can't be perfect. It would put too much strain on the rest of you little people."

"That reminds me, I've also always said you're a bit of an asshole." Todd said with a grin.

"Thanks, sweetheart. Just for that I'm taking you out of my will."

"You'd never do that." Todd said, confidently.

"Oh no? Why not?"

"Cause you have no one else to leave it to. Course, I'm sure the government would appreciate fourteen million dollars." Todd chuckled.

"Sixteen."

"Sixteen what?"

"Sixteen million dollars." Paul said and no longer felt a single emotion at the statement. Not happiness in acquiring the money, or even the satisfaction that he was more financially solvent than most states in the union. It was just a statement of fact. 

"Wasn't it just fourteen not too long ago?"

"It was, but there was a payoff with an investment that I had entirely forgotten about. Some land I bought in El Salvador years ago, thinking for some stupid reason that it would be a nice place to retire to. Apparently there's oil on a neighboring tract of land and the only way to get large machinery into the area to get to the oil is to go through my land. Thus, I have more money now than I did then. Whoppdie fucking do."

"Hey, if making more money is making you miserable you can always let me share your burden." 

"Every time I offer you money, you refuse."

"Well, I figure every multimillionaire needs at least two friends that don't use him for money."

"One, you and Eric are my only friends and two, that's bullshit. You love your life. You love your husband, you love paying bills and bitching about the small stuff. Your house is a home, while my house is a show place. That's why you don't want the money. That's why if I die first, you will tuck away a couple million so you don't have to worry too much but donate the rest to charity."

"Bet you can't guess what charity we've decided on." Todd asked with a smirk.

"The Alzheimer's one." Paul said simply and was rewarded by seeing Todd's smirk disappear.

"How did you know?"

"Because every time that commercial comes on with the woman who talks about what it's like to start forgetting stuff, you get all weepy."

"It's weird how well you know me." 

"We did date." 

"For six months and that was nineteen years ago." Todd said.

"Nineteen? Really?" Paul said, aghast and disgusted.

"Yeah. I dated you and then I met Eric and we'll be celebrating eighteen years this coming July."

"Jesus. I thought it was only ten."

"Yeah, no. It's nineteen. We're getting old, kiddo."

"Apparently." Paul said, gesturing toward the party favors. "You didn't have to do that, by the way."

"Course I did, it's October 10. It's not every day that someone turns fifty and you can't turn fifty without a party."

"I don't think anyone should have to turn fifty if they don't want to." Paul sighed again.

"Well, you've got enough money to try and turn back the hands of time."

"I only have sixteen million. I somehow think that it wouldn't be enough."

The door opened and closed again. Paul knew it was Eric and watched with a small twinge of jealousy the way Todd turned to his lover and brightened. 

"Hey babe." Todd said and they wrapped their arms around each other. 

"What are you guys talking about out here?"

"Time." Paul said. "Money." Todd said at the same time.

"Interesting conversation." Eric observed. "What brought that on?"

"Oh I was just feeling old." Paul said.

"Bullshit. You were feeling lonely and you're only just realizing that you have no one to share your life or your large.... fortune with." Todd contradicted.

"Lonely? I'm not lonely."

"I may not be as old as you are, Paul but I am a psychiatrist. I know loneliness when I see it."

"You're four years younger than I am, Todd. Not exactly a spring chicken yourself."

"That's true, but I'll always be four years younger than you are so my statement stands. Both of them actually. You are one of the loneliest people I know and my heart breaks for you."

"I'm not saying I'm lonely, but even if I were, there's nothing I could do about it. I'm too old to go to the bars again, too young to go on a gay cruise for seniors. I don't feel like going through the humiliation of blind dates and too disinterested in being a sugar daddy. So that basically leaves me where I am. Alone." Paul took another cigarette from his pack and lit it.

"See? Lonely." 

"Alone is not lonely. Alone just means that there's no one with you, lonely means you're pissed that no one's with you."

"He's right, honey." Eric said.

"Shut up, baby." Todd frowned.

"No, he's right. That's what alone and lonely means."

"Thank you, Eric." Paul nodded as if he'd won the argument.

"But he's wrong about which one he is. He's alone and lonely."

"Thank you, Eric." Todd smiled as if he'd won the argument.

"Oh fuck you both. Queers in relationships are as bad as breeders. They all think the world should be in one."

"Not the world. There are a lot of people I wish weren't in a relationship. But there are a few people I think need one desperately and you're at the top of my list." Todd said and turned to Eric still had his arms around him. "Wouldn't you agree, baby?" 

"I would. You really need to find someone, Paul. I'd hate to see you all bitter sitting on your money like it's the only thing worth living for."

"Do I do that now?" Paul was genuinely hurt. "Do I sit on my money? I give to charities that I think deserve it, I give to friends when they're down on their luck. I enjoy my money. I took us all to Puerto Rico last Christmas. We had a blast."

"We did." Eric agreed fervently. "That was awesome!" 

"Start thinking about where you'd like to go this year. I was thinking somewhere in Asia. Sri Lanka, maybe or Thailand." Paul suggested.

"Oh babe, he's gonna take us to Thailand!" Eric said, his eyes bright with childish excitement.

"Eric, we're not talking about vacations!" Todd admonished. "But I'd rather go to China." He said on a side note. "We're talking about Paul living his life without anyone and trying to fill the void with money."

"Well, we could just not talk about it at all." Paul said and looked back out over the river.

"Paul, there's no one you know that you're interested in?"

"No."

"What about dating sites?" Eric suggested.

"Please! They're worse than bars."

"What about people you used to know?" Todd asked.

"Well, there is this guy that I knew once but he's taken." Paul grinned at his ex boyfriend who was still wrapped in his lovers arms. Todd grinned back.

"Yeah, right. We were never serious. Our relationship was always friendly."

"I remember some times when it wasn't so `friendly'." 

"Hey! I'm standing right here." Eric said without true heat. He'd never had a problem that Paul and Todd had once dated but that didn't mean he wanted to hear too much about it.

"What about Dylan?" Todd said and Paul's face fell. 

"Who?" Paul hadn't thought of Dylan in a very long time, but when the name was mentioned Paul knew exactly who Todd was talking about. 

"Don't give me that shit. You know who I'm talking about."

"Who's Dylan?" Eric asked.

"Yeah, Paul. Who's Dylan?" Todd asked in a voice which suggested he knew.

"Dylan's a memory. Someone I knew from my past who is better left there." Paul angrily flicked the last of his cigarette over the railing and desperately wished he could light another one without showing the stress he felt from the conversation.

"Dylan is the voice in the back of Paul's head that whispers shit when he starts getting close to someone." Todd answered sagely.

"Dylan is not the reason I'm alone, Todd."

"No, Paul. You're the reason you're alone."

"How do you know about Dylan?" Paul asked.

"I found some letters you wrote to him once. They had never been mailed."

"You went through my stuff?!" Paul yelled.

"Yeah, like nineteen years ago when we were dating. I'm sorry. Get over it. Now tell us about Dylan." Todd ordered and Paul sighed again.

"He was a boy I grew up with back in Denniston."

"Where the hell is Denniston?" Eric asked.

"It's no where. It was wiped away in some floods in the early eighties. The town's completely demolished and no one's rebuilt it for good reason."

"Ok, where was Denniston?"

"Upstate New York."

"I never knew that." Todd said, amazed that he had never known where his ex boyfriend had been from. "I thought you were from Westchester or the city or something."

"Yeah, I moved there when I was nineteen so I just thought it was easier to let people think I came from there." Paul said feeling uncomfortable speaking about his history that he had tried to hard to bury.

"Why?" Todd asked.

"To say Denniston was rural would be kind and to say that my family were the trailer trash of said rural community would be a flat out lie. We didn't even have a trailer. We lived in a shack that was tucked up into the hills. We didn't own it, but whoever did didn't bother to kick us out so we stayed. Or squatted rather. You can imagine why I wouldn't want to share that with people."

"So you came from.... humble beginnings." Todd had thought hard to find a nice way to describe Paul's early years. "So what?"

"Dylan was my best, first and only friend. He was also my first love."

"He didn't love you back?" Todd asked. 

"I don't know. I never told him." 

"Why not?" Eric asked.

"Dylan was from the richest family in our area which isn't saying a lot. But I was from the poorest. He was out of my reach so I never told him." Paul admitted.

"If you could do it again, would you? Would you tell him that you loved him?" Todd asked.

"Yeah, probably."

Paul drove home and watched the automatic gates that led to his house swing open. He parked his B.M.W. in front of the garage and walked up the steps to his front door. All the lights in the house were off and as he stepped inside the silence reminded him that, despite some plants he was the only living thing in the house. He put his coat in the closet and went to the living room to watch some t.v. before bed. He was feeling rather tired and knew it wouldn't be long before he headed up stairs. Three hours later, he was staring at the television still unable to make himself retire for the night. He wondered what was keeping him up and could only describe it as a vague feeling of anxiety. Like he was supposed to do something that he hadn't, or that he wanted to do something but he wouldn't.

Paul shut the television off and went to his office to check some emails and give a quick look over his portfolio. He hoped that would do the trick and bore him enough to help him sleep. It was either that or warm milk and being lactose intolerant, that wasn't an option. The emails popped up on the screen and he read them thoroughly but they didn't seem to tire him, neither did going over his investments. He shut down his computer with disgust and leaned back in his chair. He looked about the office in the dim light of his Tiffany desk lamp and his gaze was caught by something set on his wall of bookcases. 

`That's why I can't sleep.' Paul thought. `Mother fucker.' 

Paul stood and headed over to take a small wooden box that had sat untouched among his books since he had moved in. It wasn't covered with dust thanks to his cleaning service, but he knew that it hadn't been opened in years, or at least since Todd had rifled through it nineteen years ago. Paul couldn't remember the last time he had gone through that box. It opened with a creak and Paul brought the letters out.

They were yellowed with age and a few had stains from before he had placed them in the box to protect them. Paul took the first one and unfolded it. The penmanship was atrocious, the spelling was even worse. Even though he had been eighteen and nineteen when he had written them, his schooling had been so poor that he had had to take remedial classes for two years before being at college level. 

Deer Dilan, Yu havnt bin arownd much latly sinse yur wurkin at yur dads shop. I miss yu. I dont no y I have thees feelings but I do no that I love yu. I bet my pa and ma wud beet the livin shit outta me if they new I did. I wish yu were heer with me.

In another one he had written:

Deer Dilan, I saw yu the other day swimin down at bakers pond. I wantid to talk to yu but yu was with yur frends and I no they dont like me. They think Im trash but I no yu dont. Yu dont treet me that way. Its won of the reesons I love yu. That and yur butiful too!

In yet another, Paul noticed the penmanship had improved as did the spelling. He knew it was written after he had moved to New York and was enrolled in the program for disadvantaged kids who needed help to prepare for either vocational school or college. 

Dear Dylan, I heard from your sister that you got into Duke just like you wanted to. I think that's great! I'm so prowd of you. I wish I could tell you in person but I don't think I'll be able to get to North Carolina anytime soon. I don't think it's a good idea if we see each other anyway. I'm not even in college yet, just this class for stupid people. I know that I'm not even going to send these letters. I justwanted to tell you how I feel and this is the best way I can even though you're never going to see them. Maybe someday when I'm rich and famous I'll find you and tell you. I still love you. I will always love you. Paul

By the time he had finished the fourteen letters, Paul had tears in his eyes. They splashed on the paper leaving wet spots and smearing the old ink. He chuckled at himself and shook his head at the wealth of emotions still in his heart after all that time. He had been cursed to find his one true love at such an early age and to have that love reject him. Paul realized that everything he had done in his life from that moment on had been for Dylan. Todd's question came back to him, `If you could do it again, would you?'.

"Yes." Paul answered out loud. He suddenly felt tired and emotionally drained. He went upstairs and undressed before laying in his bed. It was a large bed, more than enough for two people much less just one, and it had never felt so big or so empty. His large bedroom echoed the sound of the small fan he used for white noise to help him sleep. He turned off the light which stood on his end table, closed his eyes and was soon asleep.

Paul woke to the absence of the fan he slept with, sounds of birds chirping and the feel of sweat running down his face. His room felt like it was two hundred degrees. `Shit,' he thought. `The power must have gone out during the night. But the generator should have kicked on automatically.' He then realized the side he was sleeping on ached hard as if he were sleeping on a floor. He hadn't slept on the floor since....

Paul's eyes flew open and instead of seeing his large, opulent bedroom he saw a dirty, dingy wall. He spun his head around and saw the rest of the little shack he had grown up in back in Denniston. 

"What the fuck?" He said and his hand flew to his throat that had made sounds he hadn't made in thirty two years. "What the hell is going on?" He asked himself in a voice better suited to an eighteen year old. 

"What are you carrying on about over there?" Another voice interrupted his thoughts and he looked over to see him mother sitting at their small kitchen table. 

`Impossible!' he thought. `This is fucking impossible!'

It was on shaky legs that he stood and he looked over his body with interest. He was thin. Not that he'd been obese before falling asleep but his age and wealth had left him a little softer than he had been. He stood tall, but not quite his full six foot two and though his shoulders had widened he hadn't filled out with muscle yet. His hands were no longer filled with the aches of mild arthritis but with the strength of youth. His bare chest was broad, strong and covered with the beginnings of the black fur mat that had covered his body since he came of age. He ran a hand through his hair and found it black with no hint of gray and almost shoulder length. The dark and dirty jean shorts he wore were a size too small and encased his large frame tightly, showing off his large package swollen with a piss boner. He needed to relieve himself though he was too shocked to find himself in this fucked up dream that he pushed the need to the side. He wanted to find a mirror to see his face but knew there would be no mirror in the shack. Paul heard a cough and turned back to stare at his mother as she drank her morning coffee and had her first cigarette of the day. 

"What are you staring at?" She asked in her usual grumpy and tired voice. 

"You're dead." He answered simply. 

"I'm what?"

"You're dead. I went to your funeral. I paid for the fucking thing, casket and all."

"Well fuck you too, you son of a bitch!" It was her favorite insult for him though she never understood the irony of a mother using it on her own son. Paul walked over and pulled out the chair across from her and sat down. He was instantly deposited on the floor next to the overturned chair.

"You fucking moron! That chair's only got three legs. If you can't sit on it right sit on the floor before you go breaking any more shit!"

"I forgot." Paul said and sat the broken seat on it's remaining legs before sitting gingerly on it. "What's the date today?"

"Date?" His mother looked at him as if he had lost his mind.

"Yeah, the date."

"I don't know. I think it's May."

"What year?"

"Boy, you feeling 'specially stupid today? It's nineteen seventy nine. You're sure in a mood." His mother said as she lit another cigarette with the one she had just finished smoking. 

`Nineteen seventy nine?' Paul was astonished. `There was no way.' Yet here he was sitting across from his mother.

She was exactly as he remembered; tired of life, gaunt and thin with stringy hair and dull brown eyes which were tinged with yellow. She would remain here till the end of her days, surviving the flood that wiped out the entire town which sat lower in the hills, only to die a few years later of uterine cancer. Paul would have just closed his first big deal for Hathaway Inc. and would use his bonus of ten thousand dollars to send his mother to the afterlife in style. He hadn't been close to his mother, not many people in the world could say they had been close to Connie Stark, but she was the woman who had given birth to him and occasionally protected him from his father's beatings. She deserved something. He had just started to wonder where his father was, when the door to the shack slammed open and a large man entered.


If You Could Do It Again... Ch. 03-04



This is the second part of If You Could Do It Again. Thanks for reading and please vote and comment!! I'd like to thanks Julri and Nomoretears for their help and technically savvy! 

*

The alarm clock on his bedside table shrieked with it's insistent noise. Paul opened his eyes and saw the familiar surroundings of his bedroom. He was back in two thousand and eleven. He felt relieved but also a bit disappointed. It had been an amazing experience to relive that one day, even in a dream, even though it was a day from a time he tried very hard to forget. Seeing his past with more experienced eyes had let him truly bury the weights he had been dragging for so long. The weights that the judgemental townspeople had attached to him and that he had carried through his life, letting it effect him in so many different ways. He had striven harder to succeed because of them, but also he had doubted himself more than he should have. He took a breath and hopped out of bed feeling like he was eighteen again, or had just been recently. A sharp pain in his hip reminded him that he was fifty and that moving so fast was not necessarily a good thing to do. But nothing was going to corrupt his bright outlook on the day. 

Paul showered and dressed and headed downstairs with a spring in his step. He decided against his usual grapefruit and coffee breakfast and began pulling out the makings for pancakes with strawberries and bacon. A buzzer on the wall told him he had a guest just as he was pouring the batter on the skillet.

"Who is it?" He asked as he pressed the button.

"It's Todd, Paul. Let me in. I got your presents you conveniently left at my house."

"Oh Todd! This is awesome! I was going to come see you later. Come on in!" Paul pressed the button to open the front gates and began whipping up a little more batter. 

He was flipping up the first of the golden brown pancakes with the crushed bacon baked into them as Todd came into the kitchen carrying an armful of presents. 

"What are you eating?" 

"We are eating bacon pancakes with whipped cream and strawberries." Paul smiled.

"Have you lost your mind?" 

"With real butter and real syrup."

"You have lost your mind." Todd said. "I'm not eating that."

"You will eat it and you'll love it."

"No, I'm not." Todd refused.

"What did you have for breakfast today?"

"A bowl of granola, two cups of skim milk and a decaf tea." Todd answered.

"Oh yeah. You're eating this." Paul said and pushed the first stack of pancakes toward Todd. 

It only took a few minutes of aggressive persuasion before Todd agreed to one bit of the sinful meal. One bite lead to a short stack with extra whipped cream and strawberries. With his mouth full of pancake, Todd noticed Paul's unusually happy attitude.

"What's got you so chipper today?"

"Why can't I be chipper?"

"You can, obviously but in my profession when a person has such radical turn of emotions as you seem to have had, there's a reason for it."

"I had a really, really good dream last night." Paul admitted and tucked into his own breakfast.

"Really? I've had good dreams but I don't think any of them have effected me like yours has effected you."

"Well have you ever had a dream where you're eighteen again?" Paul asked.

"No, but I have had a dream where I was a woman who was writing a book and Eric was my husband who kept throwing pickles at me." Todd answered.

"You had a dream like that and they still gave you a therapists license?" 

"Shut up and tell me about your dream."

Paul did and Todd listened intently, only interrupting to ask questions if it were truly necessary. By the end of the tale Paul's eyes were a bit misted over but he still held the smile on his face.

"And Dylan just got up and walked home? Through the woods in the middle of the night?" Todd asked.

"Yeah."

"Wow." 

"I know. So, doctor, what do you think?" Paul asked and took a sip of his coffee.

"My medical opinion?" Todd asked.

"No, your opinion as a concerned citizen. Yeah, your medical opinion!"

"I think you took some really great drugs last night."

"What?!" Paul was affronted.

"You remember that time we went to Costa Rica and you made us all drink that stuff that your friend made, Mr. I'm-the-shaman-of-the-jungle-drink-this-and-speak-with-dolphins."

"Yeah, I didn't know that was going to happen." Paul said, attempting to sound apologetic though his boyish grin ruined the effect. 

"I saw walking trees, Paul. I saw walking trees and was running around the beach trying to get everyone to safety while Eric was counting the sand and separating it by color and I don't even remember what happened to you."

"I was listening to the music of the stars." Paul answered, a little embarrassed but also amused.

"Oh God! That's right. You were even singing with them that weird song."

"Yeah." He chuckled. "Todd, I didn't do any drugs last night. I don't even have those drugs nor would I know where to get them. Besides, does what I told you actually sound like a trip to you?"

"The fact that you thought you were eighteen again is a little trippy. Yeah." Todd said.

"No, I didn't think I was eighteen. I thought I was dreaming. But it didn't even feel like a dream, it felt extremely real. It felt like more real than a memory. It was intense!"

"Maybe it was a flashback." Todd suggested.

"It wasn't a flashback. Is there such a thing as an intense dream that is a mixture of a memory?"

"Some people say that their dreams are unusually detailed and realistic and since dreams come from the subconscious almost anything is possible." Todd stopped and glanced at Paul as a realization hit him. "Paul, you're not thinking that you actually went back in time and made out with your old sweetheart, are you?"

"I don't know. I know it's not possible but at the same time it felt so real. And I have the memory of not telling him I loved him just as I now have the memory that I did." Paul confessed.

"You have the memory of the dream in which you told him you loved him. It's not a memory of an actual event."

"How do you know?"

"Because it's not possible to go back in time. Even physicists agree that it's not possible. The past is the past. It's unchangeable. If you could actually travel through time and could go back in time, then what if you went back and changed something which blocked you from ever figuring out how to travel in time in the first place. You couldn't do it?"

"What?" Paul asked, completely confused. 

"I'm not sure I understand it all myself. Eric's much better at this sci-fi shit than I am. Look, you have the memory of never telling Dylan you loved him, right?"

"Yeah."

"Now you have a memory, which you admit is a recent memory, of telling him you do. It's simply the memory of a dream. The only reason we know dreams are dreams are because they happen when we're sleeping, so we usually remember falling asleep just before or waking up just after. And there's usually a dream-like quality to them, an unrealistic quality which points to it being a dream."

"But what if it's not, Todd?"

"Then you're crazy and it was a wicked hallucination, but that's just my medical opinion."

"Stop being my doctor and be my friend. Tell me what you really think." Paul asked.

"As your friend, I think you're crazy and I think you should see someone."

"Fuck you." Paul said as he started putting the breakfast dishes away. 

"All right, I'm sorry. Just kidding. As your friend, let's assume for the moment that you're not crazy."

"Thanks." Paul said, sardonically.

"You're welcome. Then if you went back in time, why did nothing change?"

"What do you mean?"

"Ever see The Butterfly Effect? Guy goes back and changes one little thing and then something else goes wrong and something else goes wrong and he keeps on having to jump back in time to correct all the things that he fucked up when he corrected the one little thing in the first place."

"That's actually a movie?" Paul asked.

"You get the point though? You went back in time to tell the love of your life that he was the love of your life and nothing changed. You still own this house, you still have money, you're still blessed with me as a friend and you still have love handles."

"Bitch."

"Whatever. I'm just saying...." Todd shrugged.

"I guess you've got a point. Why did nothing change? If I had been back there like I feel that I was and did the things that I did then why am I still here like I never went back at all?"

"There's one way you could find out." Todd said.

"Oh yeah, how's- Oh no. Oh hell no! I'm not doing it." Paul threw up his hands and shook his head frantically. 

"It's the only way, Paul. If you want to know, it's the only way."

"I don't want to know. I'm ok with it being just a dream."

"Don't be a pussy, man. Just go out and find him."

"No."

"Find Dylan and ask him, talk to him about it. Get confirmation. Then at least you know."

"No, I can't do that. He left me on the mountain after I told him I loved him."

"You're not sure he did or not." Todd reminded him.

"If he didn't then I'm going to go up to a man I haven't seen in thirty two years, a man I've never come out to and ask him if he remembers being up by Baker's Pond one night hugging and kissing? Are YOU crazy?"

"Hey, that's my line. And I wouldn't suggest doing it like that, no. But you could be a bit more subtle about it. Just look him up, ask him for coffee. Either way, it's been thirty two years. I bet he'd be excited to see what's going on in your life."

"I don't know Todd."

"Then think about it. Till then, it's just a dream." Todd said, and stood up to leave. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I either have to go purge this breakfast or exercise for eight hours straight."

Paul spent the next day thinking about Todd's suggestion and had to admit, parts of it made sense. But the risk of total disaster loomed just as ominously. Paul figured it couldn't hurt to locate him while he thought of what to do in the meantime. He went onto his computer and tried a name search for Dylan Boch. The only result was a business page which listed him as one of the engineers. A private email was listed so Paul sent him an email.

Dylan, Oct. 11, 2011 I hope this is the Dylan Boch from Denniston N.y. that I grew up with. My name is Paul Stark. I don't know if you remember me. I came across your page and thought I'd say hi and ask how you were doing. Would love to hear back from you. Paul P.S. If this isn't the same person, I apologize.

Paul knew it was the same man, there was a picture on the site of Dylan standing next to a building wearing a hard hat and a proud look on his face. He apparently had a lot to do with the construction of what looked to be an impressive structure. Paul's heart leaped in his chest. He was still beautiful. The years had left their mark, as they had on his own body but Dylan was still Dylan. His brown hair had grayed a bit at the temples, his muscular chest and stomach carried a little more weight that it had thirty two years ago. But his beautiful green eyes still sparkled with boyish mischief and excitement. Paul felt himself thicken and undid his belt. 

He unzipped his zipper and pulled his hard cock out of his pants. His hand wrapped tightly about himself as he stroked his shaft while gazing at the picture of the boy he loved, now a man. He imagined them in bed together, holding each other as they had that night. Pressing their hard bodies against each other. Paul moaned Dylan's name and came hard as he stared into bright green eyes. 

He took a tissue from the box on his desk and wiped himself off. Just as he threw the tissue away, he heard his email notify him that he had a waiting email. It was midnight and Paul tried to calm himself down telling himself that there was no way he could have gotten his message and responded so quickly. When he checked his inbox, he saw the familiar address he had just written to. He opened the email.

Paul! It's great to hear from you! It's also a little weird. I've been thinking of you lately. Wow man, I'm so glad that you wrote me! I'd love to hang out and catch up. Are you in the area still? I live in Albany, N.y. now. Hopefully, you're not too far away and we can meet up. It's really good to hear from you. Dylan

Paul was a little amazed by his luck. Albany wasn't far from him at all. In fact, it was only an hour by thruway. He reread the email and noted how many times Dylan had mentioned that it was good to hear from him, though he still didn't know if they shared the same memory of a special night on the mountain. Paul wrote back.

Dylan, I'm so glad it was you! I wasn't certain. I live down near New Paltz so I'm not that far away and would love to get together and catch up. Let me know when you have some free time and either feel like coming down or I'll come up there. I'm pretty free most of the time so whenever is good with me. Let me know and I'm looking forward to it. See you soon, Paul

Paul didn't sign off and didn't have to wait long before he received a response.

Paul, Again, this is weird. I'm going to be down in that area tomorrow. Feel like getting together?

Paul responded, typing with shaking hands.

Dylan, Absolutely. Here's my cell phone number. Why don't you give me a call tomorrow when you're free. Paul

Paul, Will do, man! Should be clear around two. Will give you a call them. I'm looking forward to it too! Dylan

Paul signed off and went to bed but laid awake fighting against nerves for sleep. Sixty miles away, just outside of Albany, another man struggled for sleep.

Dylan walked into work and sat down at his desk with his cup of coffee and bagel. He was earlier than usual and had the office to himself, at least for another twenty minutes. He ate his breakfast, drank his coffee and read as much of the newspaper as he could stand before tossing it aside. The date loomed up from the front page stating Oct. 10, 2011 making Dylan sigh. `Where had the time gone?', he wondered. He was just about to get to the work he had planned out on his desk, when he heard the outside door open and someone walk in. He looked up to see his secretary, Marge standing in the doorway.

"What are you doing here?" She asked.

She was an older matronly woman who had resigned herself to living a single life and totally dedicated it to work. She had only once taken a sick day in the twelve years she had worked for him and had to be threatened to use her vacation time. Though she was usually a gruff and grumpy sort of person, Dylan knew that she cared for him in a way they neither discussed.

"I couldn't sleep. Thought I'd come in and get an early day."

"Something bothering you?"

"No." He said.

"Don't bullshit me, Dylan. What it is?"

"Nothing. Really, Marge."

"How long has it been, Dylan?"

"Since what?"

"Since the divorce was final?" She said and Dylan sighed.

"Six months."

"And Jessica left you a year and a half before that."

"Yeah, there abouts."

"Any women since then?"

"One or two." He answered honestly.

"You're single, your wife left you two years ago and you've only had one or two women since then?"

"Yeah."

"Misplaced loyalty?"

"For Jessica? No. It's not that. It's-." `The fact that nothing feels right and hasn't for a long time', Dylan thought to himself. "I don't know what it is."

"Well, you have to forget that bitch anyway. She ran out on you, not the other way around."

"Actually Marge, I left her a long time before she ever left me. I've just never admitted that to anyone."

"Well, either way you're better off. Maybe, she did you a favor." Marge sighed.

"When you're feeling like this you have to get out of yourself, get out of your mindset. Go do something new, call an old friend. Maybe someone you grew up with." Marge suggested.

Dylan thought. He knew where most of the people he grew up with were and didn't want to call any of them. There was one person though, but he didn't know where he was. Dylan hadn't thought of Paul Stark in years. 

"Yeah, maybe I will. But only after we stop bullshitting and get some work done today." 

"You're the boss." Marge said and headed to her own desk. 

That night, Dylan headed home with some take out and ate his dinner watching t.v. His dog, an Australian Shepherd named Ralph, lay on the couch next to him waiting for some Chinese food to drop. A couple hours later, Dylan let Ralph out to do his business for the night and headed to bed. He closed his eyes and listened to Ralph's snores before slipping away himself. 

"Get up!" Came an irritating voice, interrupting Dylan's sleep. "You're not going to sleep the weekend away!"

If Dylan were more awake he would have remembered that his ex-wife Jessica had long since left him and that the voice didn't even sound remotely like hers, but he was still half asleep and irritated to the point of anger.

"Shut the fuck up, I'm trying to sleep!!" He yelled and heard his bedroom door slam open.

Dylan's eyes opened as he saw his mother rush into the room. Confusion and disbelief seized him as he stared up at her. 

"What did you say?" She asked.

"Uh.... uh...." 

"You best pray that I don't tell your father what I think you said. I'm going to let this one pass as if I misheard something but if it EVER comes out of your mouth again I'll tell your father and hand him that strap to beat you senseless! Is that clear?!"

"Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry." Dylan said automatically.

"You're damn right you're sorry. Now get up this minute before I change my mind." She turned on her heel and left the room. "I've had enough of you teenagers and your smart mouths!" She called back.

Dylan looked about him and saw his childhood room, the same dresser he had used until college, the same bed he had slept in till moving into the dorms. The quilt on the bed had been stitched by his grandmother and lost when his family had to leave their house to avoid the flood. Most of everything they had owned had been damaged or lost but here it all stood as if nothing had happened. And his mother had died about seven years ago in Florida, but there she was waking him up as if he were eighteen again. 

Dylan walked over to the mirror above his dresser and saw a younger man looking back at him. He WAS eighteen again or at least he looked it. `What the hell was going on?', he thought. He reached his hand up to run it over his face and jaw. Smooth skin and the recent growth of youthful stubble all pointed to his being younger. But that was impossible. He looked down and saw the straining of morning wood in his tightie whities. He wasn't sure what was going on but decided to run with it until he was. 

Dylan took a shower and dressed before heading downstairs. His mother was in the kitchen cooking breakfast while his sister set the table. He hadn't even thought of Laura. She was now married with a couple of kids and was the principal of a high school on Long Island. His sister looked up and smirked.

"You look confused, Dylan."

"I am confused." He answered.

"About what?"

"Don't bother your brother, Laura. He's having a rough morning." His mother scolded as she placed eggs and bacon on the table. She was obviously still pissed.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that Mom." He said.

"It's forgotten. Now sit down and eat."

It was an uncomfortable meal, eating with people who were now either dead or much older, but Dylan did his best to hide his discomfort. The radio filled the silence as they ate and Dylan only half paid attention until the news report came on. The announcer opened with the line;

"And here's the news for Saturday May twelfth, nineteen seventy nine...."

Dylan frowned and once again, wondered what was going on. In nineteen seventy nine he had been hanging out with friends, getting ready to graduate high school and working in the store with his father. His father who was still alive in nineteen seventy nine.




If You Could Do It Again... Ch. 03-04



"Where's dad?" He asked and his family looked at him as if he had two heads.

"At the shop where he always is this time of day." His sister answered as if he were stupid.

"Oh. Right." Dylan felt embarrassed that he hadn't remembered but it had been so many years since this was routine. "I think I'll stop by and see if he needs any help today."

"That would be nice." His mother said. "But I thought you were going swimming with Sarah and your friends today?"

"Well, I'll check and see just in case." His mother nodded.

"If your father doesn't need any help and you still want to go swimming I'll pack you guys a lunch to take up with you."

"Thanks." He said, cleared his dishes and headed out to his father's store.

His father's store sat in the middle of main street and was the only place in thirty miles that you could get groceries, feed, gasoline, crop seed or anything else that you needed. If he didn't have it on the shelves you could either drive the hour and a half to Kingston or order it through his magazines. Most people here, ordered through the magazines rather than waste the eighty cents a gallon to drive so far. The door jingled as Dylan walked in.

"What are you doing up so early? I thought you'd be sleeping in since it's the weekend." His father said with a smile.

"Mom had other thoughts." Dylan said and smiled back at his dad. 

The last time he had seen his father, Ron Boch hadn't even known who he was. He had thankfully died before his mother had passed and not been left alone in his last confusing years. Dylan's heart felt light at seeing him here so alive and healthy. 

"Yeah, she would. She's from old German stock and they don't take kindly to slackers. I had a successful store, a nice house and a beautiful family and your grandpa Hanz still thought I was a slacker. He called me `the Hippie'." Ron laughed. "Can you imagine? Me? A hippie?"

"Yeah well, grandpa Hanz was always a little weird."

"Don't let your ma hear you say that. She'll wash your mouth out with soap."

"I think she wanted to this morning. I sort of cursed at her when she was waking me up. I apologized to her already. I was just sleepy this morning." 

"Well, I'll tell her you told me and that we had a talk about it. I bet you really shocked the shit out of her though." Ron said with a chuckle. Dylan smiled back.

"I thought she was going to take the broom to me."

They both laughed and Dylan grabbed a gumball from a container on the counter.

"What are your plans today?" Ron asked. "Anything special?"

"I thought I'd help you out here at the store." Dylan suggested. 

"Really? I don't need much help but if you wanted you could stack the shelves in the back. The boxes are all there." Rob seemed surprised but happy for the help. 

"Sure thing." Dylan went to the back and was just about done with his task when he heard the door jingle.

"Hi, Mr. Boch." Came a young girls voice.

"Heya, Sarah. How are the parents?"

"They're fine thanks. Mrs. Boch said that Dylan was here."

"He is, in the back." 

A few minutes later and eighteen year old Sarah Tolling stood above Dylan with her hands on her hips. `Jesus!', Dylan thought. `She's so young!' The last he had heard of Sarah was that she had married a lawyer and was living in L.A. until he divorced her and somehow got away with paying her little to no alimony. It was even rumored that she had done a few adult movies to supplement her income. 

"Dylan, I thought we were going swimming today?" She asked, irritated.

"We were, but my dad needs some help."

"You're almost done here, Dylan. Why don't you go with your friends." Ron said as he walked into the back room.

"Are you sure, dad?" Dylan asked, not really wanting to leave his father whom he hadn't seen since his funeral. "I could stay and help you stock the freezers."

"No, don't worry about it." Ron said with a wave of his hand. "We'll have time for that later. Go be with your friends."

Dylan didn't want to go but his father insisted and so he finally left for home to grab a bathing suit, towel and the lunch his mother had packed. His friends all met outside his house and they started up the hill together. Looking about the group, Dylan didn't honestly know why he had ever hung out with these people. They had grown up together, ran around town together, been in and out of each others houses and he had once thought that they would be friends forever. He saw none of them back in his adult life and even though some of them had reached out to him, he had never wanted to rekindle the relationships they had when they were young. 

It was a hike up to Baker's pond but they were there by ten o'clock. The heat of the day made the water look inviting but when Dylan dipped his toe in he wasn't sure he could take the plunge. It was still the freezing water of spring and though it felt refreshing, it would be something else entirely once he was immersed in it. He sat down on one of the rock's by the pond's edge and sunned himself while his friends sat around and gossiped. 

"Hear anything from Duke yet?" Asked Tom Roberts as he sat down next on the rock. 

Dylan thought for a moment and remembered he hadn't heard from the college of his choice till days before graduation so it was pretty safe to say he hadn't. 

"No, not yet. I'm not worried though. I'm pretty sure I'll get in." 

"You sounds pretty confident. How do you know?" Tom asked.

`Sixty thousand dollars in student loans and a degree.' Dylan thought. 

"Just a feeling." He said. 

"I'm going to go into the army first. See a bit of the world." 

`You're going to get kicked out of the army and put in prison for killing a prostitute, you sick fuck.' Dylan thought to himself. 

"Sounds like a plan. Just stay away from hookers." Dylan got up and left Tom looking after him with an confused expression on his face. "I'm gonna go in. Who's with me?"

The group eyed the water they knew to be cold with trepidation and some of them outright refused. 

"You go in first, Boch." Mark Van White challenged.

"All right. I will." He said and took a deep breath. `This is gonna hurt.' But he ran forward and leaped from the tallest rock to splash into the water. 

He came up sputtering and shivering at the shock of the coldness. It did cut the heat of the day but Dylan wondered if it was worth it. After seeing that he had done it and survived, some of the braver members of their little squad entered the water. Dylan climbed out and grabbed hold of the rope that was tied to a branch high above them. 

"Come on, losers!! Get in the water!" He said and flew through the air to let go above the pond. He splashed down and swam through the water to climb out on the banks. He laughed at himself and realized he hadn't felt this good in years. Dylan didn't know whether it was the frolicking without a care in the world or being a hale and hearty eighteen year old again but he loved it. He saw Sarah roll her eyes at him and headed toward her. 

"Dylan, stay away!" She warned but he didn't. 

He grabbed her about her waist and threw her into the pond, laughing as she hit the water. She emerged from the water looking like a drowned poodle.

"Dylan, you asshole! I didn't want to get wet!" She shouted.

"Why did you come then?" Dylan asked in answer. "It's a swimming hole. You're supposed to go swimming."

`Ah well, they're only kids.' He thought to himself. `Wait till they have bills and kids and aches and pains and their heart's been so badly bruised it feels like mush. They wish they had this day to live over.' 

"Oh no! Look who it is." Dylan overheard one of the group say and turned to see Paul Stark walking up to them. 

Dylan's heart jumped a little at the sight of him and he frowned wondering what that was about. He had always liked Paul, though the town despised him and his family. Paul had always been there to help out whenever he needed it. That meant a lot to Dylan and he never forgot it.

"Hey." Paul said. 

"Hey Paul! How's it going?" Dylan said with a smile.

"Good. Just running around. It's hot today." Paul said and Dylan realized he was nervous. 

"Uh duh, Einstein." Mark Van White sneered. "It's called a swimming hole. You go there when it's really hot out."

Paul turned to Mark and smiled. 

"Hey Mark, why don't you shut the fuck up and let the big people talk, ok? I'd appreciate that, buddy." 

"What did you say to me, dirtbag?" 

Dylan was as shocked as Mark was. Paul had never spoken to anyone like that. He had been one of the sweetest kids around and Dylan's heart had broken every time he saw him being mistreated, which was often. 

"I said, shut the fuck up..." Paul repeated his comment slowly as if talking to an imbecile. 

Mark walked forward and stood in Paul's face but Paul didn't back down. 

"You want to repeat that, ass wipe?" Mark whispered, threateningly.

"I already said it twice. Are you not hearing it or not understanding it?" Paul smiled back and Dylan knew that if he didn't step in there was going to be a fight.

"Hey, guys. Why don't we all just take a step back and cool off? This pond's big enough for all of us."

"No, Dylan. I don't think it is. Besides, he's trash. I don't swim where trash is." Mark said, turned and left. Most of the group followed him.

"Come on, Dylan. Let's go." Sarah said but stopped when she realized he wasn't coming with her. "I said, let's go."

"I don't want to go. I want to swim." Dylan said and wondered if Sarah had really treated him like a lap dog as she was now. "You head back with the others. I'm gonna stay here with Paul."

"Are you serious?" A look of disgust passed over her face as she glanced over at Paul. 

Dylan saw it and got pissed. `Who the fuck does this princess think she is? I actually dated her?' 

"Yeah. I'm staying. I walked up here to go swimming and I'm not leaving till I'm ready." He said and they both watched her walk off in a huff.

"Jesus, man! What's gotten into you?" Dylan asked with a bit of a chuckle. "I've never seen you stand up to them like that."

"I just got tired of their shit. Didn't feel like taking it anymore." Paul answered honestly and Dylan was impressed. 

"Well be careful around Mark. He's got a short fuse. You don't want to set him off." Dylan warned.

"From the tales I've heard he's got shorter things than fuses." Paul mumbled.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Well, are we gonna go swimming or just bullshit?" Dylan said and ran and jumped into the water. Paul smiled and followed him in.

Dylan enjoyed the cool feel of the water and the company as they swam about but he kept glancing at the other man's body. He had never noticed how attractive Paul had been. Thin and undernourished, yes but attractive. He didn't need to wonder why Paul hadn't dated since most of the town thought he was beneath them, but most of the town girls were sluts anyway so it was a surprise that none of them had tried. They swam till their bodies couldn't take the cold anymore and then climbed out to sun themselves on the warm rocks while they talked.

"No, seriously. Erica told me he put it in the wrong hole." Dylan knew he was talking through nerves but he knew that if he stopped than Paul might wonder about it and realize that for some reason he made Dylan uncomfortable today. 

Dylan had never thought men attractive before, as an older man in his real life he had acknowledged that some men were definitely better looking than others. He had even caught himself a little excited by the look of man but he had never considered his attraction to men went deeper than that. With Paul sitting on the rock, bare chested in tight shorts with water dripping off him as he dried in the sun, Dylan thought that perhaps it did. 

"Dylan, no man `puts it in the wrong hole' accidentally. He either is a total moron, which in Mark's case is actually possible, or he likes doing it up the butt." 

"No way! Up the butt? Really? Gross! Why would you want to?" Dylan hoped he sounded like a genuine one hundred percent straight eighteen year old.

"It's just a different way." Paul added.

"Do girls like it?" His wife had flatly refused all twenty two years of their marriage. 

"Some do."

"Wow." Dylan frowned. "I've never thought about it."

"Some guys like it too."

Dylan's thought had been caught up in his ruined marriage and he had missed Paul's meaning.

"Some guys like what?"

"Some guys like it up the butt." 

"Well, I guess it'd be the same as doing a girl up her chooch but you'd get shit all over your dick."

"No, Dylan. Some guys like taking it up the butt." He finally realized what Paul was saying but wondered why he was mentioning this. `Paul's straight, isn't he?'

"I know that. Fags do. They do each other up the butt. That's just weird." Dylan said, again hoping to sound like a normal eighteen year old from nineteen seventy nine.

"It's not weird, if you think about it. It's just sex. Sometimes it's even more, just like with a man and a woman. Why can't two men love each other just like a man and a woman? Why can't two women love each other for that that matter?" 

"So you think it's all right to be gay?" Dylan asked. "What about the bible where it says `thou shalt not lay with a man' and all that stuff. That's gospel."

"That's bullshit. Love can be between two people who see something special in each other. That's all it takes. Love doesn't check to see that one has a dick and the other has a chooch." Dylan watched Paul close his eyes tightly as if hiding emotions that were too strong to deal with in the open.

"Have you ever been in love, Paul?" His eyes opened and Dylan stared into them.

"Yeah. Haven't you been?"

"I thought I had but now I don't know." Dylan said, thinking of his ex-wife. "What does it feel like?"

"It's..... incredible. It's different for each person and it's different for each person with every different person they love." Dylan was struck by Paul's passion. `He's so young to be speaking like that. I'm fifty years old and I'm not sure I even felt a fraction of what he has.'

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"The person you love.... how does it feel with them?"

"I want to be with them all the time. I want to talk with them all the time about everything. When they're not with me I still feel like they are, like I carry them around in my heart. I feel like they're the only person who sees me," Paul spoke while looking into Dylan's eyes. "and I feel like I'm a better person when I'm with them. I want to be a better man for them. I want to be everything they need." Paul took a shaky breath and Dylan realized he needed to adjust his straining hard on from digging into his leg.

"Wow. That's a lot of feeling." Dylan said and felt jealousy that someone so young could feel something he'd been missing his entire life.

"It is but it's the best feeling in the world."

"So who is it?" Dylan asked with a smile on his face.

"Oh no. I'm not telling."

"Come on! We're buddies. Spill it. Who you got the hots for?"

"I can't tell you this one, Dylan."

"I bet I know her. It's not Erica, is it?" He asked and scrunched up his nose. "I mean, she's nice and all but she's a tramp."

"No, it's not Erica."

"Oh you got some new blood, huh? Well, good for you. She better treat you right, especially after all that nice shit you've said about her."

"Yeah, well. Here's hoping." 

"Hey, Paul." Dylan wasn't sure how to put this but decided it should be said. "You're life's not been... easy. I don't mean to offend you but I'd say it's been pretty much shit."

"Now THAT's gospel." Paul said agreed.

"I'm happy for you. I'm happy that you found someone to make you happy and I hope to God she does."

"Dylan, I need to tell you something." Paul started but Dylan felt his erection still pressing against it's material confines and decided cold water was need to cool him off.

"Enough with the sappy shit though." Dylan said and stood before leaping into the water again. 

They swam for another two hours as the sun made it's way across the sky. It must have been about six o'clock when Dylan finally mentioned heading home. With the spring sun still setting early, he would just be able to make it home before dark. Paul's face shown disappointment which Dylan shared but it was getting dark and Paul would probably head home soon anyway. 

"I bet your parents want you home before dark too, huh?" Dylan asked as he picked up his towel and a bag that had been lying next to it.

"No. My pa's been up at his still today. He's going to come home drunk. It's better that I not be there." Paul answered. `Oh fuck, that's right!' Dylan thought. He had forgotten about Paul's dad being an abusive drunk.

"So, what are you going to do?"

"I guess, I'll stay here. It should be warm enough to sleep through the night. I'll make a fire later if I get cold."

"You're going to stay up here alone?" Dylan seemed astonished.

"Yeah. I grew up on this mountain. I think I can handle a night alone by myself."

"Well, shit. I feel bad leaving you." He did, but he also hadn't really wanted to leave Paul to begin with.

"Don't worry about it. Your parents would read you the riot act if you weren't home for dinner. Mine are happy that I'm not going to be home for dinner. More for them." Paul said as he sat down on a rock. "I'll be fine."

"You haven't eaten?" Dylan heard Paul's stomach rumble with hunger.

"I had a little bit of Mrs. Welch's charity earlier. It left a bad taste in my mouth but it was something."

"Yeah, Mrs. Welch can be a nasty bitch, can't she?" Dylan said and sat down next to Paul.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, why are you still here? You should be heading home."

"Geez, you'd think a man would be a little more grateful for the food and company." Dylan said and tossed the bag he was holding at Paul. It contained eight sandwiches, four apples, half a package of chips ahoy cookies and a couple bottles of Coke. 

"Jesus! There's enough to feed.... oh yeah." Dylan knew Paul had realized all the food had been meant for him and his friends who had left.

"Hey, their loss. Give me a ham and cheese sandwich."

They ate in silence as the sun sank lower on the horizon. Just as it began to dip below the trees, Paul spoke.

"I know it's a bit late for this but are you sure you want to stay here? Your parents are going to give you hell tomorrow."

"I know." Dylan said and glanced back at Paul as he took a bite of his sandwich. "I'm sure."

The two smiled at each other and sat eating in a comfortable silence. 

They lit a fire at twilight but kept it low enough to just cast light rather than heat. The night had cooled only slightly but brought with it a refreshing breeze to relieve them of the day's sweltering temperature. They shared the cookies and Dylan led the conversation. 

"I love Chips Ahoy cookies!" Paul said, shoving one into his mouth.

"You gotta love 'em. They're perfect. Even better than my mom's!" Dylan agreed and sighed as he laid back to look up at the stars. 

"So it's gonna be graduation soon. Finally time we're free!" Dylan smiled with false excitement. He had been trying to think of what eighteen year olds would speak about and he wasn't ready to get back into a discussion about sex just yet. He saw Paul shake his head with regret.

"Are you going to graduate?" Dylan asked.

"No. I failed too many classes."

"That's cool, man. School's not for everybody. Maybe you could join the army or something." 

"I think I'm going to head to New York. Maybe I can figure out something from there. Get another chance at school."

"New York, huh?" Dylan was impressed and thought, `So that's where he went. I hope he did well.'. "That's cool! I'm hoping to get into Duke University down in North Carolina. I haven't heard from them either way."




If You Could Do It Again... Ch. 03-04



"You'll make it." Paul said with certainty. "I'm sure of it."

"Thanks man. I hope so. It's kinda been a dream. I drove down to Onteora High School with my dad to talk to one of their reps who was in the area. The brochure was awesome! My dad's brother went there too and he said he'd write me a letter, you know as an alumni." Dylan had forgotten that trip till just now.

"Alumnus." Paul said.

"What?"

"Alumnus. Alumnus is one former student, alumni are many former students."

"How did you fail your classes?" Dylan asked, again impressed with Paul's new change.

"Being stupid. I didn't pay attention. It was my fault."

"Yeah, well it's a shame. I bet you could have gotten into college easy! Maybe even with a scholarship. As it is, my dad's gonna have to take out loans for me to go."

"What is it that you want to do?" Paul asked.

"I don't know." Dylan laughed. 

He hadn't known until half way through his sophomore year when he was working construction as a side job. 

"I just know that I want to go to Duke University. Kinda dumb, huh?"

"No. You'll figure it out when you get there." Paul said.

"Hopefully. I'd like to do something where I could make some money. Seeing my parents struggle with bills and stuff hasn't been easy." 

"No." Paul agreed.

"Makes me kinda wonder if I'm going to be able to support a wife and kids when I grow up." Dylan said remembering the early years just after college. He and Jessica had put off getting married for years till they felt they could afford it.."You ever gonna get married?"

"No." Paul said and seemed certain.. 

"Why not?"

"It's just not for me." 

"Even with that girl you were talking about before?" 

"Dylan, I have to tell you something." Paul took a steadying breath before continuing. "There is no girl."

"Oh, you were just bullshitting me? Dude, you don't have to do that. What, are you a virgin?"

Paul blushed a bit and looked away.

"Yeah, actually I am but that's not what I was talking about. I am in love with someone, very much, just not a girl." Dylan couldn't say anything or even breath. `He's gay.' he thought.

"I'm gay, Dylan."

"Oh shit. Really?" Dylan finally forced out and felt himself thicken in his shorts.

"Yeah." 

"Oh wow. Um... ok." Dylan felt very unsure of what to do. He was torn between his own desire, his own uncertainty and the fact that he was basically a fifty year old man and Paul was eighteen. "So you like sex with men?"

"Yeah. I mean, I will. I mean, I don't know yet cause I'm a virgin but I'm sure that when the time comes I will." Paul shook his head. 

"That's weird, dude. I never would have thought you were..... gay." 

"You say `gay' like it's a bad thing. It's not. It's just a different way." Paul sighed. "Dylan, there will come a time when most people think it's okay to be gay. That it's just another way to be and that it's just another expression of love."

"Is it love?" Dylan asked, truly interested. He hadn't found love with his wife or the women he had been with before or since. Maybe the love of a man was what he needed. 

"Oh, seriously?!" Paul sighed. "What's that? More bible shit? Look, the bible was never meant to be taken literally or even seriously. It's a historical document which tells the story of a particular peoples rise into a society. It only tells of their own primitive identity and should not be taken as the word of God. I mean, if you came to know God from the bible you'd have to know him as a sadistic and egotistical megalomaniac with dissociative identity disorder." 

There was a pause as Dylan took in what Paul had said. He had never remembered Paul being so eloquent and knew himself to be a reasonably intelligent man, but Paul's psychological evaluation of the Almighty had left him confused. 

"What?" He asked.

"The bible is just a story and love can't be defined as something which only happens between a man and a woman. It's bigger than that."

"So, you're in love with a guy." Dylan asked.

"Yeah, I am." Paul answered.

"Who?" Dylan thought he knew who Paul cared for and felt a tingling up his spine as he waited to see if his guess was right.

"Don't ask me that, Dylan." Paul pleaded.

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Who are you in love with? Just tell me." Dylan found he needed to know.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because." 

"Because isn't an answer." Dylan said with a bit of strength behind his voice. "What man are you in love with, Paul?"

"I'm in love with you, Dylan." Paul said simply.

Dylan remained silent for a good many minutes as he let what he was just told sink in. Dylan was right and felt a tightening in his stomach. 

"How long?" Dylan finally asked.

"Seems like years." Paul answered. "I think the first time I admitted it to myself was today though."

"What do you expect me to do about it?"

"I don't know. I can only tell you how I feel. How do you feel about it?"

"I don't know. Weird, I guess. I've never had a man tell me he loves me before except my dad and that stopped when I was ten." Dylan said, feeling like he was moving into uncharted territory without a map.

"I'm pretty sure your dad meant it in a totally different way than I do." Paul added.

"Yeah."

"Do you-." Paul paused for a moment. "Do you think you could love me back?"

"I guess I love you as a friend. I don't know how I would love a man.... as a man though."

"Do you think you could try?" Paul whispered and Dylan felt his gaze in the flickering fire light. His body was frozen while he thought of what to do. 

"How would I try?"

"Can I hold your hand?" Paul asked.

"I guess." Dylan said quietly.

Paul reached out his hand and wrapped it around Dylan's. They clasped fingers and held very still as if both unsure what to do next. 

"It's weird. Your hand's different than a girls. It feels more like mine." Dylan felt a charge rush through his hand at Paul's touch. "This isn't so bad but I don't think I love you yet."

Paul chuckled.

"No, I guess not. It's not horrible though, is it?"

"No. It's okay"

"We could do something else." Paul offered.

"What?" Dylan tensed a little. 

"We could hug." Paul said and stood, pulling Dylan up with him. 

Both stood for a minute, Paul unsure of Dylan's reaction and Dylan unsure if he wanted to let this go any further. But both moved closer and wrapped their arms around each other. 

"This isn't so bad either, I guess." Dylan said.

"That's cause you're hugging me like you'd hug an aunt." 

"Well, how the hell am I supposed to hug you?"

"Like you'd hug a woman. Put your arms around me just like you'd put your arms around a girl that you like." Paul suggested and Dylan tightened his arms around the man in them.

Suddenly the two young men were chest to chest and stomach to stomach. Paul moaned softly and Dylan felt like moaning too but stubbornly refused to.

"Is this getting to you?" Dylan asked. His voice trembled a bit. 

"Yeah. This is getting to me. Is it getting to you?"

"I don't know." Dylan lied. It was getting to him but he wasn't ready to admit it.

Paul moved and Dylan felt his bulge rub against the front of his pants. At the sharp intake of breath, Paul looked into Dylan's eyes and saw that they were wide and nervous. Dylan felt his hard dick rubbing against Paul's own through their clothes. The rapid tempo of their hearts beat against each others and their desperate gulps of air matched each others heightened state of arousal. 

`Oh my God!' Dylan thought. `I want him!'

Paul leaned his head in and lightly brushed his lips against Dylan's. He felt Paul's tongue on his own and moaned at the pleasure of it. Paul caught the moan with his mouth and matched it with one of his own. He felt arms tighten around him and tightened his own, he felt his own desire reflected in the man in his arms. Paul broke the kiss to stare into Dylan's eyes. They were no longer nervous but filled with heat and desire. 

Dylan needed to taste Paul again and moved his head to capture Paul's mouth with a tentative uncertainty. Paul moaned again as his lover shyly explored his lips and tongue. Dylan drew in a ragged breath as they pulled themselves closer and deepened the kiss. Dylan felt Paul's hand run over his body, and his body tingled everywhere that he touched. Dylan felt Paul grab his ass and pulled it closer mashing their groins together and couldn't help but moan.

"Oh God! That feels good." Dylan said, when they broke for air. 

"It can feel perfect when it's with the right person." Paul answered, a little breathlessly. 

Paul placed his hand lightly on Dylan's flat stomach which jerked in response at the touch. Paul pressed a little harder and caressed the soft downy hair that led into his bathing suit. 

"Oh God, Paul!" Dylan said and placed his forehead against Paul's. 

"Are you okay with this Dylan? We can stop whenever you want." Paul asked and Dylan felt that nothing in the world could make him stop now. "Dylan?"

"Don't stop, Paul. Please God, don't stop!" 

Paul lowered his hand and slipped it into the front of Dylan's suit to grasp his large erection. Dylan let out a breath which sounded like a cross between a moan and a sigh. He jerked the large cock in his hand until he couldn't wait to see it for himself. He slipped Dylan's shorts down his hips and was rewarded with a full naked view of the man he loved. He was beautiful in every way. 

Paul knelt down in front of him and Dylan felt his hot breath on his cock and groin. He knew his dick was leaking precum, he could feel the warmth of it on the head of his dick just as he felt Paul take him slowly into his mouth. Dylan moaned and took hold of Paul's head to guide and stroke his fingers through his hair. Paul bobbed his head into Dylan's crotch tasting his lover and pleasing him. Both of them moaned their pleasure and Dylan felt that he was getting close. 

"Dylan, I know this is all new to you but there's something else I'd like to show you, something else I'd like to give you." Paul said, standing and pulling Dylan to him again.

"What's that?" Dylan asked, his voice thick with need. 

"My virginity." Paul answered.

"You mean you want to..." Dylan couldn't believe what he was hearing or what he was thinking of doing but his cock pulsed at the thought of slipping into Paul's warm, hot body.

"Yeah." Paul said.

"Yeah. I want it. I want you."

Dylan watched as Paul shucked his own clothes and stood naked and proud in front of him. He let his eyes travel up and down the body that was so different from his usual sex partners and found he was more than pleased. Dylan nervously reached out to touch Paul but stopped and looked for approval. Paul smiled and nodded. Dylan laid his hand on his chest and felt the hard, smooth muscle and skin covered in curly chest hair. He smiled.

"Yeah, this is really different from a woman." `It was better', Dylan thought.

"Different in a good way, I hope?" Paul smiled.

Dylan's hand slowly made it's way down into the curly bush above Paul's own large member and grazed the base of it. Paul drew in a sharp intake of breath.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm perfect." Paul admitted. "You can touch it if you want."

Dylan's hand slid down the length of Paul's penis and grasped it's hard length.

"Wow. I've never touched another man's dick before in my life."

"Well, you're only eighteen." Paul said and noticed an odd look come over Dylan's face.

"Yeah, I guess." Dylan had a moment of guilt over the fact that he was so much older than Paul, but he had long passed the point of walking away.

The heat in his hand surprised Dylan as he gently stroked Paul's uncut cock. He was fascinated by the foreskin, which Paul's head was already pushing it's way out of and kept pulling it back and forth. He was amazed by the feel of it and by the fact that he wasn't freaking out. A small gem of precum appeared on the tip and Dylan licked his lips. He was caught up in wondering what it tasted like. Dylan knelt down in front of Paul as Paul had in front of him. 

"Dylan, you don't have to do this if you don't want to." 

"I want to." Dylan said, opened his mouth and took Paul's dick inside.

Paul warned Dylan to watch his teeth as he tried to mimic the motions that Paul had used on him and after choking and gagging a few times, found a rhythm which pleased both of them. The taste of Paul was entirely masculine and heady making Dylan want more, but Paul soon pulled away. 

"Was I doing it wrong?" Dylan asked.

"No, baby. You were doing it perfectly. I was about to come and didn't think you'd want that. Besides, I want to come with you inside me." Paul said and lowered himself to the ground. 

He opened his legs wide and had Dylan kneel in between them before lying back. Dylan looked down at the beautiful man before him and could barely breathe. His dick was so hard it was swollen harder and bigger than it ever had been before. 

"We don't have to do this if you're not ready, but I want you so bad." 

"I want you too, Paul." Dylan admitted. "What do I do?"

"Put the head of your cock on my asshole and rub against it. Lube it up with your precum."

Dylan did as he was told and Paul moaned at the glorious feel of the large penis head pressing against him. He marveled in the feeling of Paul's soft hole on his dick head.

"Now, push forward. Just like a pussy." Paul added.

"Like a man-pussy?" Dylan smiled and Paul laughed.

"Yeah, like a man-pussy. Just go slow. You're a bit big."

Dylan felt a surge of pride and slowly pushed himself till he was just inside Paul's ass. He saw the man under him grit his teeth against the pain and clenched his fists. 

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah, just go slow. I'll be fine." Paul said and Dylan slowly slid his long length into his body. 

Dylan stopped when he was fully inserted into Paul and closed his eyes. It was so tight and hot and warm around his cock. Dylan opened his eyes and saw Paul nod that he was ready. He pulled out and slowly pushed back in causing a rush of feeling to build in Paul and rush up his spine. 

"Oh God." Paul whispered. "How does it feel?"

"It feels fucking incredible!" Dylan answered as he continued to fuck Paul's ass. "I can't believe I've never done this before."

Dylan knelt in between his legs as he thrust his cock into Paul's body and watched his face with each slam of his hips. He felt their bodies crash into each other only to divide and crash again. The feeling built within him and his balls tingled with every thrust. The expressions on Paul's face drove Dylan into a frenzy as he knew he was causing the pleasure he was witnessing. Dylan's face was sweating with the heat, the exertion and the pleasure of making love. 

Dylan gripped Paul's legs and used them as leverage as he pushed forward and pulled back. He looked down to watch his cock slide into and out of Paul's ass. 

"Oh God, Dylan I'm going to come soon!" Paul yelled.

"Me too, Paul. I'm gonna come." Dylan said and felt his balls tighten against his groin.

Paul reached up and brought Dylan down to cover his body. They were face to face, staring into each other's eyes with Dylan still pumping furiously. 

"I love you, Dylan." Paul said and watched as Dylan's eyes widened and his face wrinkle with his orgasm. Dylan felt that Paul's words had pushed him over the edge and didn't stop fucking as he came. His cock released streams of cum into Paul as Paul's own cock spurted over their bodies. They collapsed together, in each other's arms, still attached by Dylan's slowly softening cock.

They stayed like that for some time as they rode the waves of their recent climax. Dylan caught his breath and laid on Paul's chest as he felt a hand gently stroke his back. Reality started crashing into upon him. He wondered what he had just done and thought of what was at risk. Was this real, was this a dream? Was he supposed to love a man now? An eighteen year old at the beginning of his life, while he was a fifty year old at the end of his? If this was real, what of his life? Would it be gone? Would it just disappear? What of Jessica? What of- No, he decided. He wouldn't let that happen. His heart broke but he would leave. At least he had known love once, even if he did have to sacrifice it for others. He broke their connection, stood and picked up his towel and shorts.

"Dylan? Where are you going?"

"I'm going home."

"Why?" Paul asked, and Dylan's heart ached at the hurt in his voice.

"Because I'm NOT a faggot like you, Paul! I'm not gay!"

"What?" Paul asked, confused. 

"Dylan, I'm sorry." Paul said, standing up still trying to come to terms with what happened.

"No, I'm fucking sorry! I'm fucking sorry I ever talked to you!" Dylan said and before Paul could react, he was gone.

Dylan walked away and made his way down the mountain in the dark. He was grateful there was no more light than that of a half moon and no one there to see the tears he shed the entire walk back to town. He snuck into his house and crawled into bed without being seen. Dylan felt like throwing up at the thought that he had finally found love and was leaving it behind. It was hours before his eyes finally drifted closed and sleep claimed him.

Dylan opened his eyes and saw his bedroom as it was before his sojourn to nineteen seventy nine. Apparently nothing had changed in two thousand and eleven. The memory of it came back to him, but was tinted with a good deal of disbelief. `It couldn't possibly have happened.' Dylan thought. He grabbed his phone and dialed a number, praying as it rang.

`Be there! Please God, be there!'

"Hello?" Came a young woman's voice.

"Hey baby."

"Dad! What are you doing calling so early?"

"Is it early? I'm sorry. I had a crazy dream and just wanted to make sure you were all right."

"Are YOU all right?" She asked.

"Yeah, I am." He lied.

"Really?" His little girl was getting old enough to know.

"No, but I will be. I'll be fine." He said. "I love you, Robin."

"I love you too, Dad. I'll call you over the weekend."

"All right, baby."

They hung up and Dylan gave a sigh of relief and offered a silent pray that she was safe and that he hadn't fucked things up.

Dylan walked into the bathroom and checked himself in the mirror as he turned on the hot water for his shower. His eyes were bloodshot as if he had been crying lately. He frowned but again chalked it up to a dream. `It was going to be a weird day', he thought and got ready for work. 

Over the next couple of days, he couldn't get the memory of his time with Paul out of his head. He even was tempted to do an internet search for him but wasn't certain of what he would do should he find him. He worked longer hours, getting to the office before everyone and not leaving until at least seven. He would watch t.v. until too exhausted to stay awake and even that didn't guarantee that he would fall asleep. One such night found him at midnight, checking some work emails and filing out some needed paperwork when he received an email. 

Dylan, Oct. 11, 2011 I hope this is the Dylan Boch from Denniston N.y. that I grew up with. My name is Paul Stark. I don't know if you remember me. I came across your page and thought I'd say hi and ask how you were doing. Would love to hear back from you. Paul P.S. If this isn't the same person, I apologize.

Dylan reread it a number of times before he could finally believe it. This was Paul. Paul Stark and he had found him and written him. What were the odds that he had just dreamed about Paul and here he was. Dylan nervously emailed back and found out that he was only an hour away. Within a few conversations they exchanged cell phone numbers and were planning on meeting for a drink tomorrow. Dylan went to bed and tried desperately to fall asleep but a mixture of anxiety and excitement kept him up. 




If You Could Do It Again... Ch. 03-04



Dylan was talking himself into and out of meeting with Paul the entire ride down but when he realized he was in New Paltz figured there was nothing he could do about it now. He parked in the municipal parking lot and walked around town for a bit before heading into the bar / restaurant where they had planned to meet. He was early but sat down and ordered a beer hoping it would calm his nerves. He had gotten halfway through it when something made him look to the door and he saw Paul Stark walk in. Dylan felt like he had gotten punched in the gut. He was older, Dylan noticed, but still handsome and sexy. Paul had always had a quiet strength within him that made people resent him. It was like they knew he could take anything they had to give and come out the better person. `God, he looks good.' Dylan thought. 

Paul looked up, saw Dylan staring at him and felt his mouth automatically curve in a smile. He sat at the bar looking as beautiful as ever and he was there to meet him. Paul's heart skipped a beat and he forced himself to walk forward. Dylan got off the stool and met him halfway.

"Wow." Dylan said.

"Yeah." Paul answered.

"Jesus, what's it been? Twenty five, twenty six years?" Dylan asked.

"Thirty two." 

"No. Can't be."

"Fraid so."

"Wow." Dylan said.

"Yeah." Paul answered. "You hungry? Want to get a table?"

"Yeah, let me just grab my beer." Dylan went to get his beer and take a moment to quiet his nerves as Paul sat at a table overlooking the busy street and get a hold of himself. 

"So," Paul said as Dylan sat down across from him. "I guess you got into Duke."

"I did." Dylan said laughing. "Yeah, I did. It was everything I had hoped it would be."

"And engineering?"

"Yup. I was working part time with a construction crew and got to know the engineer real well. He showed me some things and by the middle of the semester I was declaring a major."

"It apparently worked for you. You own your own company."

"Well, my partner and I do but yeah. It's pretty great. I love what I do."

"That's great." Paul said. The two sat smiling at each other unable to help it. 

"I still can't believe you wrote me." Dylan said. "I was thinking about you for the last few days and then all of a sudden there you were."

"Yeah, that's kind of how it happened for me too." Paul took a sip of his beer and thought of what he should say and what he shouldn't. "I was thinking about you and wondering what you got up to and then I did a search and found your company so I thought I'd send you an email and here we are."

"Yeah, life's crazy huh?" Dylan said.

"Life is definitely unwell." Paul agreed. 

"So what have you been up to?" Dylan asked.

"I went to New York after graduation. Well, after you guys graduated, I got my G.E.D. and took some remedial courses to help kids get into college. I got a full scholarship to Columbia."

"No shit?!"

"No shit." 

"That's great!" Dylan said. "I don't mean to sound like an ass. I always knew you were smart and could do it, but you-."

"Had a lot of challenges to get through first." Paul finished for him. "Yeah. It was tough but I made it. I got a business degree and worked for some pretty interesting people. I made some money and figured I'd get out of it while I still had a heart, you know?"

"That's great. I'm glad for you." Dylan smiled. "Looks like we both did really well for ourselves, unlike most everyone else from Denniston."

"Do you hear from anyone?" Paul asked.

"Every once in a while, someone will give me a call or send me a letter. Sometimes they just stop by the house but I don't have anything in common with them anymore so, no not really. A lot of them have sad stories, some of them made out ok."

"How's your sister, Laura?" Paul asked.

"Good!" Dylan smiled. "She's married with kids and is the principal of a high school down in Long Island."

"That's great! I always liked her. Tell her I said hi." 

"I will. I'll actually be going down to see her for Thanksgiving." Dylan said.

"You're parents?" Paul asked but realized at their age it was a tricky question. 

"They both died." 

"I'm sorry."

"Well, dad had Alzheimer's and mom's heart wasn't so good toward the end. They had some nice years in Florida so I think they were happy." Dylan knew he had to ask but wasn't sure if he should. "What about-."

"Dead. Eddie died in the flood, pissed drunk as usual and mom died a couple years later of cancer."

"I'm sorry."

"We weren't close."

"No." Dylan understood. "Still... sorry."

"Thanks." Paul said as the waitress came to take their order. 

"Are you married?" Paul blurted out after she left. 

"No. I'm divorced. You?"

"No. Never married." Paul said and Dylan nodded. 

The conversation suddenly seemed to lag with them both realizing the topic they wanted to ask each other about but neither could bring themselves to. 

"How do you like New Paltz?" Dylan asked, desperate for something to break the silence. 

"It's great. I have some friends who live nearby and kept coming up from the city to visit them. I figured it'd be nice to have a place so I didn't always have to stay with them or get a hotel. I found a nice house and just started spending more and more time up here. Then I decided to leave the city for good. How do you like Albany?"

They spoke of their lives and things which had happened over the years but both of them realized that it was better not to delve too deep. After sharing a good meal and a few more beers their caution began to wane and they edged closer and closer toward the topic which loomed before them. Paul told Dylan a favorite memory of taking a trip with Todd and Eric to New Orleans where Eric had inadvertently insulted a voodoo priestess who ran after them throwing dried chicken parts at them and cursing them in Creole. 

"I felt so bad but we didn't know it was her mother's grave." Paul said chuckling and saw Dylan wipe tears of laughter from his eyes. 

"That's awesome. And she threw a chicken at you?"

"Well, it was like chicken guts, feet and stuff. I guess, if you counted it all up it'd make a whole chicken but we just wanted to get the hell out of there." Paul laughed.

"So Todd is Eric's boyfriend?" Dylan asked. Paul felt a little nervous but figured it was time to be honest.

"Yeah."

"You're gay, Paul?" 

"Yeah, Dylan. I'm gay." Paul watched Dylan's face, but he just nodded. "Are you okay with that?"

"Yeah, Paul. I'm fine with it." Dylan smiled and picked up the check. "I've got lunch."

Paul just smiled as he left to pay. He still wasn't sure whether or not they shared a memory but at least he had a friend. At least he had Dylan again in his life. 

"Are you ready?" Dylan asked.

"Yeah." Paul and he walked out into the crisp fall evening and realized they had sat talking for hours. "Do you have to get back to Albany?"

"Not right away." Dylan said. "Is there anything in town you feel like doing?"

"Well, it's not fun but I have to do some shopping. If you feel like coming, we can try to think of something to do after." 

"Sure!" Dylan said, got his car from the parking lot and followed Paul to the grocery store.

Paul and Dylan walked up and down the aisles talking and laughing as Paul filled his cart with items on his shopping list. Paul felt more comfortable talking about his past now that Dylan knew he was gay and accepted him. Dylan enjoyed listening to Paul talk about the things he had done since they had last seen each other but felt little licks of jealousy every time Paul mentioned one of his lovers. Even though Paul never spoke of them in detail, the very thought of them spending time with him that Dylan hadn't somehow irked him to no end. Dylan wondered if he should just bring up the "dream" or forget it and try to begin something new entirely. The desire and emotion that Paul evoked in him made him certain that he wanted something more from Paul than just friendship but he was certain how to go about that. 

Paul was certain that Dylan was straight. He had been married and divorced and though he knew plenty of men who had done that before making the switch to men, Paul just couldn't allow himself that Dylan would be one of them. He tried to resign himself to being just friends who Dylan, though his heart felt just as stomped on as when he dreamed Dylan had left him alone in the woods. He had been wrong in thinking the dream would have healed something inside him, for the need for Dylan was just as strong now as it had always been. Paul looked forward into his life and saw it being a lonely one as Todd and Eric had warned him about, but the only solution to that was standing next to him and as unreachable as the farthest star.

Paul turned down the junk food aisle and was listening to Dylan tell him about a prank he had pulled on his frat brothers when all of a sudden he stopped in mid-sentence. Paul looked over, curious to see what had caught his attention. 

"I love Chips Ahoy cookies!" Dylan said and picked up the bag.

"You gotta love 'em." Paul answered, feeling a strong case of deja vu. "They're perfect." 

Dylan looked back at Paul, his eyes wide as he remembered being atop the mountain sharing the bag his mother had packed for the swimming trip.

"Even better than my mom's." They both finished.

"You remember." Dylan said.

"I thought it was a dream." Paul answered.

"It was a dream. Or I thought it was a dream too."

"You dreamed about me?" Paul asked.

"Yeah. A few days before you wrote me. It was the weirdest thing that ever happened to me!"

"I woke up in my parents shack in nineteen seventy nine." Paul said..

"I woke up in MY parents house in nineteen seventy nine." Dylan answered.

"That was you." 

"You were there." 

Both took a steadying breath, trying to gain control of their emotions. Paul's heart filled with confusion and hurt. It hadn't been the scared eighteen year old Dylan who had rejected him but this man he stood with now. Dylan felt joy fill his heart, Paul had loved him not only back when he was nineteen but now as a fifty year old man. He stole a glance at Paul and thought, `this man loves me.' 

"I think we should have a talk." Paul said. "An honest one, finally."

"I think we should too." Dylan agreed. 

"Follow me to my house?" 

"That's fine."

Paul paid for his groceries and they both loaded them into the car. 

"Thanks." Paul mumbled. 

"No problem." Dylan offered, got into his car and pulled it in line behind Paul's.

They made the trip to Paul's house and ten minutes later, were pulling through the gate at the end of the drive. Dylan whistled as he saw the house. 

`Holy shit!', he thought. `Paul Stark did well for himself.'

Dylan parked his car behind Paul's and got out to help him bring the groceries in. After they had finished Paul put what perishables he had bought away, took a look at the rest of it and said `fuck it'. 

"Coffee, tea or something harder?" Paul asked.

"Something harder." Dylan said. 

Paul nodded in agreement and led the way into his living room to fetch the scotch from the bar. He poured two fingers of a very nice twenty five year old single malt and downed his in one shot. Dylan's only response was to raise his eyebrows before following suit. Paul refilled their glasses, sat down on the couch and set the bottle on the coffee table before him. Dylan sat at the other end of the couch and took a sip.

"So what do you think happened?" He asked.

"I don't know." Paul sighed. "I was going to either get confirmation from you that you had a memory of that night or that it never happened and it was just a dream."

"How were you going to get confirmation?"

"I was going to mention... the night on the mountain and see how you reacted."

"And if I didn't remember?"

"I was going to see a shrink."

"But I do remember."

"Yeah, you do."

"So what now?" Dylan asked.

"Fuck if I know. I didn't think much passed getting confirmation." Paul said. "I have no idea what to do now."

Dylan nodded and downed the rest of his drink before reaching and grabbing the bottle for another two fingers. After he had poured his, Paul held out his glass to be refilled. 

"Can two people share a dream?" Dylan asked and Paul suddenly realized that besides a quote about chips ahoy cookies, neither knew what the other thought happened that night.

"What exactly do you remember?" Paul asked. 

"I remember I had a really shitty day, came home and went to bed. When I woke up I was back in Denniston, in my parents house. My mom was there and my sister. Jesus! Laura was so small and young!" Dylan smiled and Paul found himself smiling in return. 

"I saw your mom and Laura when I went back. Laura told me that you were up at the swimming hole." Paul said.

"My mom was there too, huh?" Dylan winced imagining how that meeting took place. She had never liked Paul or the fact that they had been friends, but she couldn't convince her husband to deny Dylan from spending time with him. 

"Yeah, she was." Paul said and let his tone convey the gist of what happened. 

"I'm sorry."

"It was no different than I remembered. The whole town thought I was scum."

"Not the whole town, Paul." Dylan said and Paul glanced over to see bright green eyes looking into his. 

"No, not the whole town. You, Laura, your dad were all pretty good to me." Paul smiled. "It doesn't matter, Dylan. What else do you remember?"

"Well... "

Dylan told Paul all about waking up and cursing his mother out, heading to the store to spend time with his dad and then heading up to the Baker's pond to go swimming.

"And that's all you remember?" Paul asked.

"More or less." Dylan lied but he wasn't ready to let Paul know that. "So what happened when you woke up?"

Paul recounted his own time back in nineteen seventy nine, with waking up and finding his mother alive, getting sent to Mrs. Welch's house and then also going to Baker's pond to see Dylan. He left out the part about his father backhanding him onto the floor though. Some things were definitely better left in the past. 

"... and then Sarah and your friends left." Paul ended, not sure if he should continue with the rest of the story. He glanced over and saw Dylan nodding but he wasn't sure if he was nodding because he accepted the story, knew it was a lie, or just happy not to talk about what happened between them. 

"It was a crazy fucked up day." Paul said. "Or dream. Or day. Whatever the fuck it was."

"Yeah." Dylan agreed and Paul picked up their glasses to bring them into the kitchen. 

He had just rinsed them off and placed them in the dishwasher when he heard Dylan's voice from the kitchen doorway.

"I remember we stayed up there after Sarah and the guys went back to town. We swam more, right?"

"Yeah, I remember that too." Paul said, feeling surprised to find Dylan so close when he thought he was still in the living room.

"And you couldn't go home cause your father was up at his stills and would be drunk when he got back."

"Yeah."

"I remember I stayed with you cause you were going to sleep at the pond overnight. You hadn't had anything to eat that day. We shared sandwiches and chips ahoy cookies and talked about colleges."

"Uh huh." Paul said and turned around to find something to do with his hands. 

`Fuck! Why can't I have a dirty dish or something!' Paul thought as he started scrubbing the very clean counters. 

"I remember we held hands." Dylan said from just behind Paul.

"We may have done that."

"I remember we hugged and then you kissed me." Dylan said and turned Paul to face him. "I remember I kissed you back. I remember making love to you and you telling me that you loved me right before we came."

Paul couldn't tear his eyes away from Dylan's as he was hypnotized by his voice and his words. 

"I remember I hurt you after that. I called you a faggot and I left you up there alone." Dylan said and gently stroked Paul's jaw. "Do you remember that Paul?"

"Yes, I remember that." 

Dylan took Paul's face in his hands and looked deep into his eyes.

"I am so sorry."

"Why did you do it, Dylan?" Paul asked as a lone tear betrayed him by slipping down his cheek. "I've loved you for so long and you did that to me. How could you?"

"I don't know. I was confused. I didn't know if it was a dream or real. I thought if we changed too much in the past that might effect the future."

"You're marriage and your ex-wife?" Paul asked disdainfully.

"No, Paul. I would have gladly given up my marriage and my time with Jessica for you."

"Then what?" 

"My daughter, Robin." Dylan said simply. "I didn't know if we had already changed too much for her to exist. I couldn't do that."

"I can't really argue with that, can I?" Paul asked. 

"You have a right to be angry, Paul. I can't and won't take that away from you. Do you think you'll be able to forgive me?"

"I forgave you as you walked away." Paul said with a sigh. "I had gone there to tell you I loved you and I did. I didn't expect anything more from you."

"You came all that way to tell me you loved me." Dylan said.

"Yeah, I guess I did."

"I'm glad you did, Paul. I love you too." Dylan said and leaned in to take Paul's mouth with his own. Paul pulled back surprised.

"What's going on?"

"I'm kissing the man I love after being separated from him for thirty two years." Dylan smiled. 

"Paul, I always had feelings for you. I just thought it was friendship. And I guess I've always been a little attracted to guys. But I did what I thought I was supposed to and that was get married to a woman. When we went back that night and you said what you do to me, my feelings changed. All I knew was that I wanted to be with you but I couldn't change anything because then my daughter wouldn't have been born. I'm not saying I understand what happened or that I did the right thing but I'm here now."

"So I'm just supposed to believe that you want to start a whole other life with me now?"

"I hope you believe that because that's what I want and I pray to God that's what you want to." Dylan said, letting his hands stroke Paul's forearms. "You've loved me for so long, why can't you believe I love you too?"

"I want to Dylan, it's just that-."

"You're scared." Dylan finished for him.

"Yeah. I'm fifty years old and should be settling into my comfortable life, not starting something that could end in disaster when the man I love realizes he made a mistake and is really straight." 

"Paul, I don't know what I am other that I'm in love with you. If that makes me gay, then I'm gay and will be for the rest of my life." Paul still looked unconvinced. "Don't you think I'm scared too? I'm as old as your are babe, and I'm wondering how I ended up starting a new relationship, not only a new relationship but one with a man. I'm going to have to come out to my friends and family. Jesus, my daughter! But the one thing that calms me down, the one thing that makes me realize this is the right thing for me to do is that I'm starting it with you. The thought of you being by my side for the rest of my life makes me feel happy and safe and confident and excited!" 

Dylan smiled and Paul saw a glint of that eighteen year old boy in his eye. He smiled back and felt the same. 

"Take a chance on me, babe." 

"You sure you want me?" Paul asked.

"I'm sure." Dylan said.

"Then you got me."

"And I'm not going to let you go." Dylan said and took Paul's hand in his. "Let's go to bed, baby."

They went upstairs to Paul's bedroom and stood in the doorway staring at the bed.

"Are you okay?" Dylan asked.

"Yeah, it's just the last time you saw me naked I was a buff eighteen year old." 

"So was I, but that's not the point. It wasn't your body that really got to me Paul." Dylan said and turned his lover's face to his. Bright green eyes stared into bright blue ones. "It was you."




If You Could Do It Again... Ch. 03-04



They stood next to the bed and watched each other as they slowly disrobed. Their bodies were different but the attraction remained. Dylan pulled Paul to him and sighed at the naked touch of his lover against him. They kissed as they lowered themselves onto the bed and slid their hands over each others skin. Paul slid down and took Dylan into his mouth as he moaned and ran his hands through Paul's hair. When Dylan had had enough, their mouths met again in a passionate kiss while Paul straddled Dylan's lap. He took Dylan into his body and closed his eyes as his lover's length slid in to the hilt. Paul happily bounced on Dylan's cock as the man beneath him thrust upward. 

"Oh Jesus, Paul. You feel so good. You feel the same as you did back then." Dylan said and pulled Paul closer to nuzzle his neck. 

"So do you, Dylan. I can't believe it's taken us this long." 

"We have now, baby." Dylan said and dropped Paul onto his back as he took to his knees. "And I'm going to take total advantage of that."

Paul laid back on the bed as Dylan covered his body with his own and continued to fuck him with all he had. Paul moaned as his body was invaded again and again.

"You want that, baby? You want me inside you?"

"Oh God, yes! Fuck me Dylan!" 

Dylan slammed into Paul with increasing vigor until the sensation built to hot to handle and he felt his body begin to release.

"I'm coming, babe!" Dylan said and began to pump faster.

They both climaxed together as they crashed against each other in search of giving and receiving pleasure. Afterward, they lay on the bed intertwined and kissed.

"I'm going to love being with you." Dylan said and sighed.

"I just going to love you." Paul answered.

"You better, babe."

Epilogue

A year later, Paul stood out on the back deck of Todd and Eric's house chewing a piece of carrot. He had finally, after more years than he'd care to remember, kicked the smoking habit and replaced his oral fixation with vegetable sticks. The autumn wind blew unseasonably warm and Paul took off his jacket and set it on the railing. The evidence of his latest birthday sat in the October sun. The door to the house slid open but Paul didn't have to look back to know who it was. 

"Hey baby." He said.

"Hey yourself." Dylan answered and slipped his arms around Paul. "Eric and Todd are wondering when you're coming in for cake."

"Soon, I guess. Then I'd like to get home and open my present."

"You already got your presents." Dylan said in confusion.

"I didn't get birthday sex."

"Oh." Dylan chuckled. "We still have to take care of that, don't we?" 

"Yes, we do." Paul said with a smile. "How's Robin doing?"

"She's good. I think she's starting to understand us finally."

"I'm glad. She didn't do well with the whole gay dad thing at first."

"Yeah, no." Dylan thanked God that his daughter had come around. "Laura never had a problem with it."

"Laura knew I wanted you way back then."

"She did?"

"Oh yeah."

"Wow. Go figure." Dylan said and turned as Todd came out onto the back porch.

"You look happy." Todd said to Paul.

"I am."

"Not alone and not lonely."

"No."

"I'm glad." Todd turned to Dylan. "I'm glad he finally found you."

"Me too." Dylan agreed.

"Well come in for cake." Todd said and walked back inside.

"Are you?" Paul asked. "Are you happy I found you?"

"I'm the happiest and most complete I've ever been, Paul. But we found each other." Dylan took Paul's hand. "Let go get cake."

THE END



If You Could Do It Again... Ch. 01-02



`There's the bastard now.' Paul thought. If this was his dream, why wasn't the asshole still dead?

"Traps were empty. We don't have no food for tonight." Eddie Stark said without preamble or emotion.

Eddie was a large man, standing six foot three with wide shoulders and hands like bear paws. His hair was as unkempt as his wife's and his beard hadn't been tended to in sometime. His clothes were stained, though clean and mostly threadbare. Paul felt his body shake as he took in the sight of his father, a sight he had not seen in over twenty years, and didn't know whether he shook with fear or anger. Eddie glanced over at Paul and swept a large arm to knock him off the chair.

"You know that's where I sit, boy." Eddie said and grabbed the chair from the floor to sit at the table. 

Paul lay on the floor for a minute with a hand held over his bruised jaw. His mother made no comment and gave no look or indication that she had even noticed but stood to fetch his father a cup of coffee. `It's definitely anger.' Paul thought as his body shook even harder. He was going to kill the bastard if he didn't leave and soon. He stood and headed to the door but his father's query stopped him before he could escape.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?"

"I have to piss." Paul said trying to keep the resentment out of his voice.

"Hurry up. You're going to get food from old Mrs. Welch."

Paul's stomach clenched. He had totally forgotten about that. Forgotten or blocked it out. His father had made him beg for food from Mrs. Welch, an elderly woman who worked for the church. She would give it to him, but she would also let everyone in town know that his family had required charity again and isn't it nice that Jesus and his church could help such low life's as the Starks. It was an embarrassment that he hadn't needed then and sure as shit didn't need now.

Paul left the shack and stepped out into the heat of the day. He looked up into the canopy of trees above him and saw the bright sun shining down. It was still low in the sky which meant it was early, but it was unusually hot. The budding leaves on the trees seemed to suggest early spring, such as May but the sweat still dripping from his brow told a different story. Then a distant memory crept up into the forefront of his mind. There had been one early spring that they had been hit with a heatwave that had gripped the Northeast for weeks. The year was nineteen seventy nine. The year he had almost graduated from high school. It was also the year that he had run away from home after his father had found the first of his letters to Dylan and had read it with the help of his mother. This was the worst year of his life. 

Paul pulled his fly open, took his penis in his hand and let go with a stream of urine that had been straining against his bladder. He closed his eyes and shook his head. Why was he dreaming about this year? Why not a better time, like the year he had finally broken a million? Why not relive the day that he had spent the day fucking two Spanish sailors who had been on leave in Buenos Aires? Why this day? He knew why of course. He had asked for it. With Todd's instigation and question would he do it all again, Paul had been thinking of this particular time in his life. Now he was just going to have relive the past with all he knew of the future. Paul smiled. It could be fun.

He finished pissing and put his penis back in his shorts, then headed off through the woods towards town. `Let's go see the old bitch, Mrs. Welch.' He thought. It took him a half an hour to climb down the mountain and walk into the small municipality that was known as Denniston. Most of the people from the surrounding area lived in the few blocks of the town proper which left the woods, hills and other areas for the poorer "lower class" people. The higher up the mountain you were, the more of an "undesirable" you became. No one lived higher up than the Starks. 

Paul reached town and walked down the main street toward the old lady's house who lived just opposite the Lutheran, and only church in town. He walked up the back steps to her house as had been his habit when he was younger and knocked. It took a few minutes for the old bat to answer the door. 

"Here for food, I guess." She said as a statement not a question.

"Yup, I am." Paul answered brightly. He no longer cared what this woman thought of him for a number of reasons but his favorites were because; he would go on to accumulate a hell of a lot of money in his life, and because she was a long dead and rotting corpse. 

Her face showed her surprise and distaste at his boldness but again he didn't care.

"Who is it?!" Called the voice of Mrs. Welch's sister who had lived with her since the death of her husband. He had actually never seen Mrs. Welch's sister-in-law, for to his knowledge, she never left the living room and he was never allowed further in than the kitchen.

"It's the Stark boy!" Mrs. Welch answered.

"Again?! Wasn't he just here the other day? You'd think trash like that could stretch our charity a little more and make it last longer." 

Paul stepped into the kitchen as Mrs. Welch held the door open for him.

"Trash is as trash does." She answered her sister as she began putting cans and packages of food into a small paper bag. "They ain't got no consideration."

"You know there are other hungry people in our area. It's not just your ilk. You don't even go to church and thank Jesus for what he gives you."

"Can you just please give me the food without your hypocritical preaching, stereotypical judgements and general nastiness? I'd be much obliged." Paul said with a charming smile. 

The old woman handed over the bag of food with a confused look on her face but didn't say a word as the young man left.

"What did he say?" Asked her sister from the other room. 

"Something about our stereo." Mrs. Welch called back, still confused. 

Paul took the food and wandered about town feeling it strange to walk down roads and by houses that no longer existed. He remembered the people who lived in each and funny stories about them. Like the time the Mrs. Zimmerman ran about the yard with a rolling pin after her husband who had left his tractor carburetor in her kitchen sink one too many times. Or the time that Cindy Burwell was caught with the minister's son, who was engaged to another young woman, in the back shed. And being of a lower caste in the town and thought of as invisible he knew an awful lot of their secrets. He knew that Mr. Preet would make advances toward the young boys of his boy scout troop during camping trips and that Mrs. Rowe had an affair with Mr. Arlin while her husband was away on a business trip. 

Paul stopped in front of one house, a large white house with blue shutters and a lawn gnome. It was Dylan's house. Though he had grown up with Dylan and even been his friend, he had never stepped inside. The inside of houses in town were not for the likes of people such as him. It was sometimes an unspoken rule, but often people had said it outright to his face. 

"Is there something you needed?" An irritated voice pulled him from his thoughts and he turned and saw Dylan's mother and younger sister walking up the side walk toward their house. 

"No, Mrs. Boch. I was just..." Despite the fact that he looked like an eighteen year old, Paul knew he was fifty years old and shouldn't be intimidated by this woman and yet he found himself exactly that. "Is Dylan home?"

"No. He's not." She said shortly. 

"Would you tell him I stopped by?"

"No." She said as she brushed by him and started up their walk way. "I won't."

Dylan's younger sister came to stand next to Paul and they both watched the older woman make her way to the house. 

"I'm sorry she's such a bitch." Laura Boch apologized. 

Paul remembered that she had only been a year or two younger than he and Dylan and like Dylan, had always treated Paul as if he were a person. 

"It's not your fault. Most of the town was that way." He caught himself. "Is that way." 

"It doesn't make it right." Laura said. 

"Laura! Come inside now!" Mrs. Boch yelled from the front porch.

"All right mom." She answered before turning back to Paul. "Dylan's up at Baker's pond swimming." 

"Thanks." Paul said and headed back up the mountain to the little swimming hole.

His shack was on the way, so he stopped by to drop off the food. Paul's father wasn't there for which he was grateful. 

"This is all they gave you?" Connie asked as she scanned the contents of the bag.

"You know old Mrs. Welch, she's a fucking rag. Treated me like shit to get that much." Paul took a swig from the bucket they kept filled with stream water. 

"They're getting cheap in their old age." Connie said as she wondered how this little amount of food was going to satisfy her husband. It looked like she and Paul would go hungry again tonight. "I can't wait till they die and someone else takes over the Church's pantry."

"Yeah, well they're going to hold on for a good many years yet. It's all the piss and vinegar." Paul said. 

"You say that like you know when they're gonna die." Connie mentioned and Paul paused realizing it wasn't a good idea to let his mother know that he did know when they all were going to die. Even if this was a dream, it was best to act like everything was normal. Or most things, anyway.

"No, it's just our luck that they won't die till for a while yet." Paul said and saw his mother accept his explanation. "Where's Eddie?"

"Red rock." His mother said simply. 

Red rock was where Eddie Stark kept his still and brewed his form of moonshine. Most likely he would come home wasted and be in a piss poor mood looking to fight.

"Will you be ok if I don't come home tonight?" He asked.

"I'll be fine. That'll actually leave more food for your father and if he's not hungry he won't be so bad." She answered.

"Well, eat a little yourself before he comes home. He won't miss it if it's not here." Paul advised.

"If I eat something what's left might not be enough for him. He'll get ornery."

"If what's left isn't enough for him what's there now won't help and he'll probably get ornery either way. Would you rather be hungry or not hungry when you get beat?" 

"I suppose." Connie answered, impressed by her son's point of view. 

She glanced at him and thought he was different today. She wasn't sure how, but he seemed a man grown, more mature. When he turned in the light she almost caught a glimpse of what he would look like when he was older. She knew she had no right to be proud of him and that the little good he would have in his life couldn't be attributed to her, but she felt it anyway. Her son was going to be a strong man, not like her or her husband. He would be smart and he would get very far away from this hard, dirty life they lived. She felt almost as much anger toward him for it as she did joy. 

"You should leave." Connie said, embarrassed by her thoughts. "Be far gone before he gets back."

"He won't be back till the sun goes down. It's not even noon." Paul said.

"Well, maybe I don't want you around. You ever think of that?" She said testily. 

"Fine. I'll be back tomorrow." Paul said, though he doubted she even cared.

It was only a twenty minute walk to Baker's pond and the sun was high in the sky by the time Paul arrived. He heard the splashing of many people swimming and realized that he was standing in the same spot where he had watched Dylan and his friends swimming so many years ago. This was the day that Paul had written his first letter to the love of his life. The letter that was found by his parents and was responsible for the beating he received that made him flee to New York. 

He peaked through the brush, saw his classmates and for a quick minute his stomach was clenched with a familiar hesitancy. It was a feeling that came over him when people he thought of as his betters were around. He had learned it in these very hills and it had lasted through much of his adult life, till he realized that no one knew where he was from or who he had been then. The Paul Edward Stark of Denniston had died when he had moved away and been reborn in Paul E. Stark of Manhattan. But today, this crazy day, he was that boy again and subject to those feelings of insecurity. 

Paul shook his head and forced himself to remember that he was a fifty year old man who had left behind his near illiteracy and his poverty to be the man he was.... well, yesterday. He could handle a bunch of adolescents and anything they threw at him and come out smiling. He could handle this.

"Come on, losers!! Get in the water!" Called an achingly familiar voice. 

Paul glanced again through the leaves and watched Dylan fly through the air holding the rope swing, let go and splash down into the water. He came up moments later and walked up the shore of the pond. Water dripped down his young, muscular body and glinted on his skin. Dylan's build was similar to Paul's as they were the same height but Dylan was slightly slimmer and more muscular. While Paul's hair was jet black, Dylan's was a lighter brown and gave him a softer look from his own sharp qualities. Even his personality was comfortable and put people at ease. He radiated friendship and inspired loyalty. It was hard not to love Dylan Boch and Paul knew he wasn't the only one who did. 

"Dylan, stay away!" The young woman screeched as Dylan came toward her. From the mischievous glint in his bright blue eyes, Paul knew he meant to toss her in the water. 

The young woman was Sarah Tolling and she had been Dylan's unofficial girlfriend since sophomore year. Whenever Paul had asked Dylan about her, he had always shrugged his shoulders and smirked. 

"Not ready to get tied down yet." He had answered and Paul's heart would skip a beat. 

The chase didn't last long and Dylan picked Sarah up and tossed her into the pond to the hoots of laughter from his friends. Sarah came up shrieking. 

"Dylan, you asshole! I didn't want to get wet!" She shouted.

"Why did you come then?" Dylan asked in answer. "It's a swimming hole. You're supposed to go swimming."

Paul watched them for a moment more and then drummed up some courage to step out into the open. He wasn't afraid of Dylan's friends, but was nervous to see Dylan himself. He took a breath and walked toward them.

"Oh no! Look who it is." Paul overheard one of the group say. 

He ignored the comment and it's speaker and made his way over to Dylan.

"Hey."

"Hey Paul! How's it going?" Dylan was the only one genuinely happy to see him, of that Paul was certain.

"Good. Just running around. It's hot today." He answered and felt a little abashed that he was fumbling like the eighteen year old he looked like.

"Uh duh, Einstein." Mark Van White sneered. "It's called a swimming hole. You go there when it's really hot out."

"Hey Mark, why don't you shut the fuck up and let the big people talk, ok? I'd appreciate that, buddy." Paul dropped the command with just a hint of a smile which really pissed Mark off.

"What did you say to me, dirtbag?" 

"I said, shut the fuck up..." Paul repeated his comment slowly as if talking to an imbecile. He had to admit, it did feel good finally speaking his mind to these little shits.

Mark walked forward and stood in Paul's face but Paul didn't back down. 

"You want to repeat that, ass wipe?" Mark whispered, threateningly.

"I already said it twice. Are you not hearing it or not understanding it?" Paul smiled back.

"Hey, guys. Why don't we all just take a step back and cool off?" Dylan recommended, stepping in between the two. "This pond's big enough for all of us."

"No, Dylan. I don't think it is. Besides, he's trash. I don't swim where trash is." Mark said, turned and left. Most of the group followed him.

"Come on, Dylan. Let's go." Sarah said but stopped when she realized he wasn't coming with her. "I said, let's go."

"I don't want to go. I want to swim." Dylan said. "You head back with the others. I'm gonna stay here with Paul."

"Are you serious?" A look of disgust passed over her face as she glanced over at Paul.

"Yeah. I'm staying. I walked up here to go swimming and I'm not leaving till I'm ready." He said and they both watched her walk off in a huff.

"Jesus, man! What's gotten into you?" Dylan asked with a bit of a chuckle. "I've never seen you stand up to them like that."

"I just got tired of their shit. Didn't feel like taking it anymore." Paul answered honestly and then thought `better late than never'.

"Well be careful around Mark. He's got a short fuse. You don't want to set him off." Dylan warned.

"From the tales I've heard he's got shorter things than fuses." Paul mumbled.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Well, are we gonna go swimming or just bullshit?" Dylan said and ran and jumped into the water. Paul smiled and followed him in. 

The water was freezing as it hadn't had warmed up much in the heatwave but Paul was thankful for the cooling effect it had on his body. Seeing Dylan after so many years looking beautiful as always had given him a hard on that he could crack teeth with. The shock of the water helped to temper his... affections. They swam till their bodies couldn't take the cold anymore and then climbed out to sun themselves on the warm rocks while they talked.

"No, seriously. Erica told me he put it in the wrong hole." Dylan related the trials and tribulations of mutual acquaintances. 

Paul didn't care about Erica and Mark's love life, or even the fact that Dylan was acting like Paul was friends with these people and would want to know. He just loved to hear Dylan talk and the laughter that almost spilled out made Paul grin until he couldn't stop from laughing himself. It also brought back his raging hard on and he rolled over to be face down on the rock to hide his erection. 

"Dylan, no man `puts it in the wrong hole' accidentally. He either is a total moron, which in Mark's case is actually possible, or he likes doing it up the butt." 

"No way! Up the butt? Really? Gross! Why would you want to?"

"It's just a different way." Paul added.

"Do girls like it?"

"Some do."

"Wow." Dylan frowned. "I've never thought about it."

Paul's heartbeat raced as he thought of how to phrase his next statement.

"Some guys like it too."

Dylan looked over at Paul with confusion on his face.

"Some guys like what?"

"Some guys like it up the butt." Paul watched Dylan's face for his reaction.

"Well, I guess it'd be the same as doing a girl up her chooch but you'd get shit all over your dick."

"No, Dylan. Some guys like taking it up the butt." Paul saw the moment of comprehension wash over Dylan's face.

"I know that. Fags do. They do each other up the butt. That's just weird." Dylan was frowning again, but this time it looked like he was more disturbed with the conversation than contemplating what it meant. 

"It's not weird, if you think about it. It's just sex. Sometimes it's even more, just like with a man and a woman. Why can't two men love each other just like a man and a woman? Why can't two women love each other for that that matter?" 

"So you think it's all right to be gay?" Dylan asked. "What about the bible where it says `thou shalt not lay with a man' and all that stuff. That's gospel."

"That's bullshit. Love can be between two people who see something special in each other. That's all it takes. Love doesn't check to see that one has a dick and the other has a chooch." Paul said and closed his eyes, afraid that Dylan was going to react badly to what he had said.

"Have you ever been in love, Paul?" Paul's eyes opened and saw Dylan looking down at him from where he sat.

"Yeah. Haven't you been?"

"I thought I have but now I don't know. What does it feel like?" Dylan asked quietly.




If You Could Do It Again... Ch. 01-02



"It's..... incredible. It's different for each person and it's different for each person with every different person they love."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"The person you love.... how does it feel with them?"

`Oh shit,' Paul thought. `This could get tricky'. 

"I want to be with them all the time. I want to talk with them all the time about everything. When they're not with me I still feel like they are, like I carry them around in my heart. I feel like they're the only person who sees me," Paul spoke while looking into Dylan's eyes. "and I feel like I'm a better person when I'm with them. I want to be a better man for them. I want to be everything they need." Paul took a shaky breath and let it out after he was done speaking.

"Wow. That's a lot of feeling." Dylan said and Paul chuckled to himself. 

`Fucking teenagers don't know shit.' 

"It is but it's the best feeling in the world."

"So who is it?" Dylan asked with a smile on his face.

"Oh no. I'm not telling."

"Come on! We're buddies. Spill it. Who you got the hots for?"

"I can't tell you this one, Dylan."

"I bet I know her. It's not Erica, is it?" He asked and scrunched up his nose. "I mean, she's nice and all but she's a tramp."

"No, it's not Erica."

"Oh you got some new blood, huh? Well, good for you. She better treat you right, especially after all that nice shit you've said about her."

"Yeah, well. Here's hoping." 

"Hey, Paul." Paul looked over to see Dylan watching him with a serious expression on his face. "You're life's not been... easy. I don't mean to offend you but I'd say it's been pretty much shit."

"Now THAT's gospel." Paul said agreed.

"I'm happy for you. I'm happy that you found someone to make you happy and I hope to God she does."

`How could anyone not love Dylan?', Paul thought.

"Dylan, I need to tell you something." He started.

"Enough with the sappy shit though." Dylan said and stood before leaping into the water again. 

Some water from the pond splashed up and hit Paul in his face. It was cold and brought him to his senses before he had done something really stupid like admit his love for Dylan. This is what he was here to do, though. He was here to tell Dylan that he loved him, even if it was just a stupid dream. A stupid, amazingly realistic dream. Paul decided that now must have not been the right time and jumped into the pond after Dylan.

They swam for another two hours as the sun made it's way across the sky. It must have been about six o'clock when Dylan finally mentioned heading home. With the spring sun still setting early, he would just be able to make it home before dark. Paul felt disappointed that his time with Dylan had come to an end. 

"I bet your parents want you home before dark too, huh?" Dylan asked as he picked up his towel and a bag that had been lying next to it.

"No. My pa's been up at his still today. He's going to come home drunk. It's better that I not be there." Paul answered.

"So, what are you going to do?"

"I guess, I'll stay here. It should be warm enough to sleep through the night. I'll make a fire later if I get cold."

"You're going to stay up here alone?" Dylan seemed astonished.

"Yeah. I grew up on this mountain. I think I can handle a night alone by myself."

"Well, shit. I feel bad leaving you."

"Don't worry about it. Your parents would read you the riot act if you weren't home for dinner. Mine are happy that I'm not going to be home for dinner. More for them." Paul said as he sat down on a rock. "I'll be fine."

"You haven't eaten?" Dylan said and Paul's stomach rumbled with hunger.

"I had a little bit of Mrs. Welch's charity earlier. It left a bad taste in my mouth but it was something."

"Yeah, Mrs. Welch can be a nasty bitch, can't she?" Dylan said and sat down next to Paul.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, why are you still here? You should be heading home."

"Geez, you'd think a man would be a little more grateful for the food and company." Dylan said and tossed the bag he was holding at Paul. It contained eight sandwiches, four apples, half a package of chips ahoy cookies and a couple bottles of Coke. 

"Jesus! There's enough to feed.... oh yeah." Paul said as he remembered Dylan's friends who were here earlier.

"Hey, their loss. Give me a ham and cheese sandwich."

They ate in silence as the sun sank lower on the horizon. Just as it began to dip below the trees, Paul had a feeling of guilt.

"I know it's a bit late for this but are you sure you want to stay here? Your parents are going to give you hell tomorrow."

"I know." Dylan said and glanced back at Paul as he took a bite of his sandwich. "I'm sure."

The two smiled at each other and sat eating in a comfortable silence. 

They lit a fire at twilight but kept it low enough to just cast light rather than heat. The night had cooled only slightly but brought with it a refreshing breeze to relieve them of the day's sweltering temperature. They shared the cookies and Paul let Dylan led the conversation. 

"I love Chips Ahoy cookies!" Paul said, shoving one into his mouth.

"You gotta love 'em. They're perfect. Even better than my mom's!" Dylan agreed and sighed as he laid back to look up at the stars. 

"So it's gonna be graduation soon. Finally time we're free!" Dylan smiled with excitement. Paul shook his head with a little regret at the trials he knew still faced his eighteen year old self. 

"Are you going to graduate?" Dylan asked.

"No. I failed too many classes."

"That's cool, man. School's not for everybody. Maybe you could join the army or something."

"I think I'm going to head to New York. Maybe I can figure out something from there. Get another chance at school."

"New York, huh?" Dylan looked impressed. "That's cool! I'm hoping to get into Duke University down in North Carolina. I haven't heard from them either way."

"You'll make it." Paul said with certainty. "I'm sure of it."

"Thanks man. I hope so. It's kinda been a dream. I drove down to Onteora High School with my dad to talk to one of their reps who was in the area. The brochure was awesome! My dad's brother went there too and he said he'd write me a letter, you know as an alumni."

"Alumnus." Paul said, not thinking.

"What?"

"Alumnus. Alumnus is one former student, alumni are many former students."

"How did you fail your classes?" Dylan asked, again impressed with Paul's new change.

"Being stupid. I didn't pay attention. It was my fault."

"Yeah, well it's a shame. I bet you could have gotten into college easy! Maybe even with a scholarship. As it is, my dad's gonna have to take out loans for me to go."

"What is it that you want to do?" Paul asked, and realized he never knew before.

"I don't know." Dylan laughed. "I just know that I want to go to Duke University. Kinda dumb, huh?"

"No. You'll figure it out when you get there."

"Hopefully. I'd like to do something where I could make some money. Seeing my parents struggle with bills and stuff hasn't been easy." 

"No." Paul agreed, though thought of his own parents situation and thought that would have been a hundred times preferable. 

"Makes me kinda wonder if I'm going to be able to support a wife and kids when I grow up." Dylan said and Paul frowned at the idea of his love with a wife and kids. "You ever gonna get married?"

"No." Paul said, again with certainty. 

"Why not?"

"It's just not for me." 

"Even with that girl you were talking about before?" 

"Dylan, I have to tell you something." Paul took a steadying breath before continuing. "There is no girl."

"Oh, you were just bullshitting me? Dude, you don't have to do that. What, are you a virgin?"

Paul realized that at this point in time he was a virgin, never having found someone who was interested in the same sort of sex he was. 

"Yeah, actually I am but that's not what I was talking about. I am in love with someone, very much, just not a girl." Dylan didn't say anything.

"I'm gay, Dylan."

"Oh shit. Really?"

"Yeah." 

"Oh wow. Um... ok." Dylan thought about it for a minute. "So you like sex with men?"

"Yeah. I mean, I will. I mean, I don't know yet cause I'm a virgin but I'm sure that when the time comes I will." Paul shook his head. This was becoming a very complex dream.

"That's weird, dude. I never would have thought you would be....gay." 

"You say `gay' like it's a bad thing. It's not. It's just a different way." Paul sighed. "Dylan, there will come a time when most people think it's okay to be gay. That it's just another way to be and that it's just another expression of love."

"Is it love?" Dylan asked.

"Oh, seriously?!" Paul sighed. "What's that? More bible shit? Look, the bible was never meant to be taken literally or even seriously. It's a historical document which tells the story of a particular peoples rise into a society. It only tells of their own primitive identity and should not be taken as the word of God. I mean, if you came to know God from the bible you'd have to know him as a sadistic and egotistical megalomaniac with dissociative identity disorder." 

Paul was surprised that he could quote Todd's usual rant verbatim, course he had heard it enough times over the years. There was a pause as Dylan took in what Paul had said. 

"What?"

"The bible is just a story and love can't be defined as something which only happens between a man and a woman. It's bigger than that."

"So, you're in love with a guy." Dylan asked.

"Yeah, I am." Paul answered honestly and prayed the object of his affection wouldn't ask the obvious question.

"Who?" But he did.

"Don't ask me that, Dylan." Paul pleaded.

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Who are you in love with? Just tell me."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because." 

"Because isn't an answer." Dylan said with a bit of strength behind his voice. "What man are you in love with, Paul?"

"I'm in love with you, Dylan." Paul said simply.

Dylan remained silent for a good many minutes as he let what he was just told sink in. Paul felt a trembling run through his body and he named it for the fear that it was. He stood at a crossroads with one path leading toward acceptance and the other leading toward rejection. `But how could he be rejected?' Paul thought. He'd come all this way, done all of this again, only to be turned down or even scoffed at?

"How long?" Dylan finally asked.

"Seems like years." Paul answered. "I think the first time I admitted it to myself was today though."

"What do you expect me to do about it?"

"I don't know. I can only tell you how I feel. How do you feel about it?"

"I don't know. Weird, I guess. I've never had a man tell me he loves me before except my dad and that stopped when I was ten." Dylan said.

"I'm pretty sure your dad meant it in a totally different way than I do." Paul added.

"Yeah."

"Do you-." Paul didn't even know what or how to ask for what he wanted. "Do you think you could love me back?"

"I guess I love you as a friend. I don't know how I would love a man.... as a man though."

"Do you think you could try?" Paul whispered and gazed as Dylan in the flickering fire light. Paul still trembled but it was from something entirely different to the fear he had felt. It was excitement and desire which coursed through his body waking his youthful desires.

"How would I try?"

"Can I hold your hand?" Paul asked.

"I guess." Dylan said quietly.

Paul reached out his hand and wrapped it around Dylan's. They clasped fingers and held very still as if both unsure what to do next. In this way, Paul felt very much a virgin again feeling the touch of a man for the first time. 

"It's weird. Your hand's different than a girls. It feels more like mine." Dylan stared at their clasped hands. "This isn't so bad but I don't think I love you yet."

Paul chuckled. 

"No, I guess not. It's not horrible though, is it?"

"No. It's okay"

"We could do something else." Paul offered.

"What?"

"We could hug." Paul said and stood, pulling Dylan up with him. 

Both stood for a minute, Paul unsure of Dylan's reaction and Dylan unsure if he wanted to let this go any further. But both moved closer and wrapped their arms around each other. 

"This isn't so bad either, I guess." Dylan said.

"That's cause you're hugging me like you'd hug an aunt." 

"Well, how the hell am I supposed to hug you?"

"Like you'd hug a woman. Put your arms around me just like you'd put your arms around a girl that you like." Paul suggested and felt Dylan's arms tighten.

Suddenly the two young men were chest to chest and stomach to stomach. Paul moaned softly and tried not to think about the fact that with a small shift of his hips both their groins would be flush against the others. 

"Is this getting to you?" Dylan asked. His voice trembled a bit. 

"Yeah. This is getting to me. Is it getting to you?"

"I don't know." Paul thought the statement was a little too rushed to be true. 

He was pretty sure Dylan knew and that he was beginning to feel something similar. Paul moved and felt his bulge rub against the front of Dylan's pants. At the sharp intake of breath, Paul looked into Dylan's eyes and saw that they were wide and nervous. Paul knew that the hardness he felt with his own was Dylan's own excitement pressing against his jeans. The rapid tempo of their hearts beat against each others and their desperate gulps of air matched each others heightened state of arousal. 

`Oh my God!' Paul thought. `He wants me!'

Paul leaned his head in and lightly brushed his lips against Dylan's. They were soft and lush and open as he slipped his tongue in to rub against Dylan's. Paul caught a moan with his mouth and matched it with one of his own. He felt arms tighten around him and tightened his own, he felt his own desire reflected in the man in his arms. Paul lifted his head and broke the kiss to stare into Dylan's eyes. They were no longer nervous but filled with heat and desire. 

Dylan moved his head and captured Paul's mouth with a tentative uncertainty. Paul moaned again as his lover shyly explored his lips and tongue. He heard Dylan draw in a ragged breath as they pulled themselves closer and deepened the kiss. Paul let his hands begin to wander and discover Dylan's body, his shoulders, his back, his hips and his ass. He gripped Dylan's tight ass and pulled it closer mashing their groins together. Dylan moaned but didn't resist. 

"Oh God! That feels good." Dylan said, when they broke for air. 

"It can feel perfect when it's with the right person." Paul answered, a little breathlessly. 

Paul placed his hand lightly on Dylan's flat stomach which jerked in response at the touch. Paul pressed a little harder and caressed the soft downy hair that led into his bathing suit. 

"Oh God, Paul!" Dylan said and placed his forehead against Paul's. 

"Are you okay with this Dylan? We can stop whenever you want." Paul asked, torn between not wanting to go farther than Dylan was able and not wanting to ruin the moment. "Dylan?"

"Don't stop, Paul. Please God, don't stop!" 

Paul lowered his hand and slipped it into the front of Dylan's suit to grasp his large erection. Dylan let out a breath which sounded like a cross between a moan and a sigh. He jerked the large cock in his hand until he couldn't wait to see it for himself. He slipped Dylan's shorts down his hips and was rewarded with a full naked view of the man he loved. He was beautiful in every way. 

Paul knelt down in front of him and examined the large member standing tall and proud in front of him. Dylan had been gifted with a perfect cut penis, who's head was dripping precum. He slowly slipped Dylan's hard penis into his mouth and swallowed the hardness as far as he could till he felt the large head touch the back of his throat. Dylan moaned and took hold of Paul's head to guide and stroke his fingers through his hair. Paul bobbed his head into Dylan's crotch tasting his lover and pleasing him. Both of them moaned their pleasure until Paul realized that Dylan was close to release. 

"Dylan, I know this is all new to you but there's something else I'd like to show you, something else I'd like to give you." Paul said, standing and pulling Dylan to him again.

"What's that?" Dylan asked, his voice thick with need. 

"My virginity." Paul answered.

"You mean you want to..." 

"Yeah." Paul held his breath waiting for an answer.

"Yeah. I want it. I want you."

Paul shucked his own clothes and stood unabashedly naked in front of Dylan who looked at his body with open interest. Dylan nervously reached out to touch Paul but stopped and looked for approval. Paul smiled and nodded, desperate to feel Dylan's hands on his body. At Paul's nod, Dylan laid his hand on his chest and felt the hard, smooth muscle and skin covered in curly chest hair. He smiled.

"Yeah, this is really different from a woman."

"Different in a good way, I hope?" Paul smiled.

Dylan's hand slowly made it's way down into the curly bush above Paul's own large member and grazed the base of it. Paul drew in a sharp intake of breath.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm perfect." Paul admitted. "You can touch it if you want."

Dylan's hand slid down the length of Paul's penis and grasped it's hard length.

"Wow. I've never touched another man's dick before in my life."

"Well, you're only eighteen." Paul said and noticed an odd look come over Dylan's face.

"Yeah, I guess."

The heat in his hand surprised Dylan as he gently stroked Paul's uncut cock. He was fascinated by the foreskin, which Paul's head was already pushing it's way out of and kept pulling it back and forth. He was amazed by the feel of it and by the fact that he wasn't freaking out. A small gem of precum appeared on the tip and Dylan licked his lips. He was caught up in wondering what it tasted like. Dylan knelt down in front of Paul as Paul had in front of him. 

"Dylan, you don't have to do this if you don't want to." 

"I want to." Dylan said, opened his mouth and took Paul's dick inside.

Dylan was new to this, obviously and Paul had to tell him to watch his teeth. He tried to mimic the motions that Paul had used on him and after choking and gagging a few times, found a rhythm which pleased both of them. The taste of Paul was entirely masculine and heady making Dylan want more, but Paul soon pulled away. 

"Was I doing it wrong?" Dylan asked.

"No, baby. You were doing it perfectly. I was about to come and didn't think you'd want that. Besides, I want you to come with you inside me." Paul said and lowered himself to the ground. 

He opened his legs wide and had Dylan kneel in between them before lying back. Paul looked up at Dylan and saw uncertainty again, but interest. 

"We don't have to do this if you're not ready, but I want you so bad." 

"I want you too, Paul." Dylan admitted. "What do I do?"

"Put the head of your cock on my asshole and rub against it. Lube it up with your precum."

Dylan did as he was told and Paul moaned at the glorious feel of the large penis head pressing against him.

"Now, push forward. Just like a pussy." Paul added.

"Like a man-pussy?" Dylan smiled and Paul laughed.

"Yeah, like a man-pussy. Just go slow. You're a bit big."

Paul felt Dylan push and soon his large head popped inside of his anus. He gritted his teeth against the pain and clenched his fists. 

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah, just go slow. I'll be fine." Paul said as he felt Dylan slowly slide his long length into his body. 

Dylan stopped when he was fully inserted into Paul and waited for a sign to begin to move. Paul soon opened his eyes as he felt his body adjust to Dylan's and nodded. The large cock within him was pulled out and slowly pushed back in causing a rush of feeling to build in Paul and rush up his spine. 




If You Could Do It Again... Ch. 01-02



"Oh God." Paul whispered. "How does it feel?"

"It feels fucking incredible!" Dylan answered as he continued to fuck Paul's ass. "I can't believe I've never done this before."

Paul watched his lover who knelt above him and in between his legs as he thrust his cock into the hilt. He felt their bodies crash into each other only to divide and crash again. The feeling built within him and every thrust sent a bigger and wilder explosion from his ass to his groin and out to his very fingertips. He closed his eyes to glory in the moment but would open them to glory in the sight of his lover. Dylan's face was sweating with the heat, the exertion and the pleasure of making love. 

Paul's legs were held by Dylan's strong arms who was using them as leverage as he pushed forward and pulled back. An image of Dylan's tight ass humping against him came into Paul's mind and the feeling within him began to change.

"Oh God, Dylan I'm going to come soon!" Paul yelled.

"Me too, Paul. I'm gonna come." 

Paul reached up and brought Dylan down to cover his body. They were face to face, staring into each other's eyes with Dylan still pumping furiously. 

"I love you, Dylan." Paul said and watched as Dylan's eyes widened and his face wrinkle with his orgasm. Dylan didn't stop fucking as he came and Paul felt hot liquid gush out inside him which made his own pleasure explode. His cock shot out stream after stream of cum just as Dylan's had. They collapsed together, in each other's arms, still attached by Dylan's slowly softening cock.

It seemed like hours later that they came to consciousness. Neither had slept, but neither had been truly awake until Paul felt Dylan take his penis out of Paul's ass and stand. He opened his eyes and looked up at Dylan's angry face. 

"Dylan? Where are you going?"

"I'm going home."

"Why?" Paul asked.

"Because I'm NOT a faggot like you, Paul! I'm not gay!"

"What?" Paul asked, confused. 

"Dylan, I'm sorry." Paul said, standing up still trying to come to terms with what happened.

"No, I'm fucking sorry! I'm fucking sorry I ever talked to you!" Dylan said and before Paul could react, he was gone. 

Paul lay alone on the ground staring up at the beautiful night sky as the man he loved grabbed his shorts and towel and stormed off into the woods in the middle of the night. He listened until he could no longer hear Dylan's angry thrashing through the forest. So that's why he had come all this way. To tell Dylan that he loved him and to taste his soft lips. To hold him in his arms and breath the scent of his desire in. To make love him even if it was just once. 

Paul wondered to himself if it was worth it. Yeah, it had been worth it. He was sure he would wake up tomorrow a fifty year old man and feel the emptiness that Dylan had left in his heart filled. Maybe he'd be able to move on and actually nurture a lasting relationship with someone, maybe not. But that didn't dim the satisfaction he had felt at being able to tell Dylan that he loved him, to hold him and taste him, to see him and be seen by him as a man. It was a gift for which he would have traded all of his money for. Thankfully, he hadn't had to. Paul closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.