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Settling Accounts Ch. 01

By: Ken Nitsua



NOTE: This story is the second of "The Steelman Tales," and thus a sequel to "Totaling the Balance." However, there are new characters and incidents and it is not necessary to have read the previous story in order to make sense of this one.

PART ONE: WALKING TO WORK

If there were one reason why he would have wanted to end his career teaching at a school in the north, it was the summer weather in Texas, especially now, at the beginning of what was misnamed fall semester. Jon Evans had grown up in New England, where the beginning of school meant the crispness of early autumn, falling leaves and chilly nights. Trudging back into the classroom in the blazing heat of late August, when the cool waters of his backyard pool, not to mention the area lakes, still beckoned, seemed absurd to him even after many years in the Lone Star State. That partially explained his grumpy mood today, on the first day of class.

He was walking rapidly despite the increasing heat of the August morning, a slender but fit man who looked younger than his forty-five years, with dark hair and mustache beginning to be flecked with gray. The distance from his house to campus was long enough to be good exercise if he set a brisk pace. Jon had always walked to school, partly for the workout, partly because it offered him a time where he could be alone with his thoughts.

The real problem was classes starting again at Steelman College meant that Kevin would be leaving in a week. Having him share his house and his bed for an entire summer had been an unexpected, wondrous event in his life. He had always known that the former Steelman student would leave for graduate school at Berkeley in September. Now that the time had almost arrived, though, the reality of their imminent separation weighed heavily on them both.

He avoided thinking of David, dead now for fifteen years, and Matthew, lost to him for other reasons. He was so accustomed to pushing them out of his mind that he did so with ease now. Perhaps, after such a long time, the pain really had begun to fade. There had after all been others since: Kevin, of course, and also Ward...

Jon had reflected some time ago that, with the passage of the years, most of his moral boundaries had fallen away, discarded without much trepidation or regret. Ward Childers had put paid to his rule never to indulge in a workplace affair. He had come to Steelman as a visiting instructor in German--four years ago? five?--hired hastily when Wilhelm "Bill" Mohrer, a longtime Steelman professor who had come to America as a World War II refugee, died one day in May of a heart attack in the closed garage of his house. He had been on his way to commencement, and was discovered that evening by his housekeeper, lying on the concrete floor by the open door of his car, dressed in his flowing academic regalia.

Jon had liked the sharp-tongued bachelor, who had been the head of the languages department forever. He had always suspected that Bill Mohrer was an old queen, though no rumors or scandal concerning him had ever been hinted at. He had gotten his first look at Mohrer's successor on the Steelman faculty when Ward stood and was introduced during the matriculation conference at the beginning of the academic year. This was a ritual all new faculty members had to undergo, and Jon had found the new visiting instructor, in his early thirties and just out of graduate school in California, disturbingly attractive.

The same thought had struck with fresh impact when he saw Ward for the first time in the locker room at the gym. Jon exercised regularly at lunch hour, either using a treadmill or swimming laps in the pool. The younger instructor was obviously also serious about keeping fit. They started greeting each other casually. Ward was friendly, but Jon held back. The truth was, he was hard put not to stare at the German professor's muscled, sturdy body, particularly in the speedos he favored for his aquatic workouts.

It was well into November that year when he started noticing a pattern in their cautious socializing, which had broadened to include an occasional impromptu lunch in the campus cafeteria. At first, he had encountered Ward at the gym now and then, but it seemed to Jon that their meetings were becoming more frequent--at least twice, sometimes three times a week. It always seemed, too, as if they were emerging from the pool at around the same time.

Most of the faculty who used the locker room either took off their suits in the shower, or wrapped a towel around themselves before walking toward the shower area, located off of the rest room. Jon couldn't help noticing how Ward would peel off his trunks or workout clothes first, and walk naked through the locker room, holding his towel by his side, or draping it around his neck. He would frequently stop at Jon's locker and engage him in conversation, so that they ended up showering together. He thought nothing of stopping in front of a urinal and starting to pee while still talking. Jon decided that if he was being invited to look, he would look. He noted that what Ward had in that department was nothing special.

Still, here was a good-looking and pleasant man who seemed to be cruising him. Jon found himself eyeing Ward's crotch when the two met in a hallway or at the cafeteria. Once after doing this he glanced up to find the other man looking at him with a slight smile on his face. He had blushed outright then, he remembered, and started talking quickly about some inconsequential business. He supposed that he must have given away his own interest then or at some other time. At any rate, it was not really a surprise to him, nor to Ward, he suspected, when it finally happened.

It was an unseasonably warm early December, and the semester was nearly over at Steelman. Jon had spent the lunch hour that day preparing a new final in his upper-level Shakespeare class and had missed working out. At twenty to five he realized that it was the last day he could file an expense report to be reimbursed for a recent off-campus trip he had taken. He had rushed off on foot to the main administration building and the business office, a considerable distance. Walking back to his office at leisure, he realized how hot and sweaty the unexpected jog had made him. The gym was near the classroom building that contained his office. Jumping in the shower to cool off a bit before heading home on another hot walk seemed like a good idea.

He greeted the student door monitor and entered a practically deserted gym. Near the end of the semester attendance was sparse, as most students abandoned their workouts in favor of studying for exams, and athletic teams took a hiatus as well. The men's locker room was empty, but he heard the shower going. Jon opened his locker, stripped and took out his towel, soap and shampoo. The lights were on in the rest room, but the shower room was dark--apparently a light had burned out. Jon stepped to the entrance, and then hesitated. Feeling somewhat foolish, he called out, "Hello?"

"Jon?" came the echoing reply. He recognized the voice.

"Ward, yeah, it's me."

"Hey, how are you doing? Looks like a bulb blew, or something. It's a bit dark in here, but come on in, the water's fine."

Hanging his towel on a hook near the entrance, Jon stepped in and saw Ward standing in the semidarkness near a jetting showerhead. "This is a bit weird, isn't it?" he said, keeping his voice light, though he found himself nervous at this unexpected encounter. "I didn't know you swam this late."

"I don't, usually, but I had some extra time today, and I really needed the workout. Feeling kind of stressed out these days, you know."

"I hear you," Jon replied, as he began to turn the shower nearest him on.

"Why don't you use this one so we can hear each other better?"

Jon turned. Ward was pointing at the shower next to where he was standing.

He paused, then decided to throw caution to the wind. "Okay." Without looking at Ward, he quickly turned on the spray, adjusted the temperature and began to lather up.

"Feels good, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it does. It's pretty hot out there today," Jon replied, rinsing off.

"I kind of like showering in the dark too. Somehow it's more relaxing."

Jon felt it too--the rushing water, the dimness, and not least, Ward's body so close to his was giving him a powerful sensual charge. He felt his cock rising and found that he didn't really care if Ward saw.

"Would you do me a favor, Jon?" Ward said. "Wash my back?"

Jon turned. Ward was facing him, extending a bar of soap, his eyes wide and questioning in the dim light. Jon had seen that look on a man's face before. He said, "Sure," and took the soap, shutting off his own shower.

Ward turned. Jon's cock took another leap upward as the V-shape of his back and shoulders was revealed. He began to run the bar of soap over the other man's flesh, at first keeping himself at arm's length; then, growing bolder, he moved closer, his hand never stopping, roving up over the broad shoulders, and down almost to where the cleft of his buttocks began. As yet he avoided doing anything overt, concentrating on evenly lathering every square inch. Conversation between them had ceased--there was no sound save that of rushing water.

His hand decided the matter for him. He saw it slip around Ward's body and begin to run the soap over his chest. He moved closer until his cock was almost touching Ward's buttocks. He half expected the other man to draw away, or to turn around and object, but Ward stood silent, unresisting. Jon reached out, put the soap bar in the wall holder and continued to massage Ward's pectoral muscles, running both of his hands now through the wet hair on his chest, making sure to hit the nipples at every pass. Soon Jon abandoned all pretense and pressed up against the other man's back in a wet embrace, his cock nestling in the cleft between his buttocks. Ward's head went back against his shoulder.

"Is this all right?" Jon asked softly against Ward's ear.

"Umm, feels great."

When Jon's hand moved downward to take Ward's cock, however, he felt the other man stiffen. "What's the matter?" he asked.

"It's just that--if I get any soap up my dick, it burns like hell. Can't use it for lube."

"Oh. Well, why don't you rinse yourself off." Jon pushed him gently under the shower. Ward obeyed, turning toward Jon. In the semidarkness he could see the younger man's hopeful yet bashful glances, his cock standing out stiffly in front of him.

When he was finished, Jon said, "You know, there's no soap in my mouth," and kneeling, kissed Ward's thighs and gently tongued his balls before completing the act. He felt Ward's body tense as his cock was surrounded by the warmth of Jon's lips and tongue. After only a few seconds, the other man pulled away.

"Did I hurt you?" Jon asked.

"Sorry--I was getting too close. It feels damn nice."

"Good, just do it," Jon replied, plunging forward again and burying the entire length of the organ in his mouth. He ran his tongue around the head once or twice before he heard Ward's gasps above the sound of the water. His mouth was suddenly filled with warm salty liquid as Ward's hands tightened on his shoulders. Jon let himself swallow the load, and kept Ward in his mouth until he had stopped shooting. Finally he released the softening cock and stood. Ward's chest was still heaving with the intensity of his climax. He managed a smile at Jon. "Thank you," he said.

"Don't mention it. Seems like you needed that, buddy.

"It's been a long time. Sorry I couldn't hold back. It just felt so good."

"Hey, I'm happy when someone enjoys my work," Jon said.

"It was wonderful. I owe you one."

"Yes, you do. And you can pay me back--after we have dinner."

Ward beamed. "I'd like that, Jon. I've been wanting to get to know you for so long. Didn't expect it to happen quite this way, though," he chuckled.

Jon returned the smile. "I've got to rinse again."

So Ward Childers had become Jon's lover, for a few months. Jon still had a few snapshots of him, and even a framed photograph standing somewhere in his house. But of his most vivid memories there were no visual reminders.

Neither of them harbored any illusions about the permanence of their relationship. Ward's appointment expired at the end of the spring term. He obtained another position at a community college in the Bay area, and prepared to return to California.

They were lying in Jon's bedroom one evening about a week before classes ended that spring. Ward had looked at him and said, with typical directness, "I'm going to miss you, Jonno."

He had replied, "Likewise, Mein Herr."

Ward had remained serious. "You've been great. And I'm not just talking about in bed, either," he smiled, "but with everything. You've taught me a lot. I won't forget it."

Jon had dreaded this conversation and strove to keep things light. "You'd better not. I expect regular e-mails, at least until you find your next lover."

He remembered Ward's hurt look. "I'm not that kind of person."

Jon had looked at him and softened. "I know. And I'm still in shock that you wanted me. Ten years older, skinny, can't do the butterfly worth shit."

Ward kissed him. "You know, you sell yourself short an awful lot. How much you want to bet you'll find a new boyfriend before me? I mean, look at all the beautiful guys who walk around this campus."

Jon said firmly, "In all my years of teaching, I've never done anything with a student, and I'm not going to start now."

Their final farewell had been dry-eyed, a fond embrace near Ward's loaded U-Haul in front of his vacated duplex. "Goodbye, teacher," his friend had said as he drove away, waving. Jon had been surprised at how empty he felt, watching him go.

PART TWO: KEVIN

It was ironic that Kevin Kuehlwasser had made no impression on him at first--understandable though, since he had been in Jon's freshman English composition class the same semester he met Ward. A decent student, but not one of the standouts, and consistently late in handing in papers; that was about all he could say about Kevin back then.

It was one day a couple of years after Ward had left when he read in the student paper about homophobic incidents on the Steelman campus. For its small size, the school had an active and at times vocal gay and lesbian student organization, and something they had done had offended some students. Leaders of the organization had been receiving threatening voice mail messages, and posters of meetings and activities were being torn down and defaced with hateful graffiti. The article mentioned a "rally for dignity" on the steps of the campus student union building that week.

Jon read the article then put it aside. While not obsessively closeted, he had never been open about himself on campus, nor had he made himself known to gay students. Before he had received tenure, this had seemed a prudent policy; afterward, he told himself, he just was not a political person. Still, no one could fault him for supporting a rally against bigotry, of whatever sort.

The day of the rally was clear and sunny. Walking toward the student union around noon, Jon saw a small crowd standing in front of the entrance. Someone was standing on the stone steps, speaking into a microphone. To his surprise, he saw that it was Kevin."It took me a long time to find the courage to say what I'm going to say to you all now," Kevin's voice boomed from speakers standing on both sides of him. He stood, calm and dignified, not at all intimidated by the crowd. "But part of the reason I can stand here and say that I'm gay is the supportive, inclusive atmosphere that has existed here on the Steelman campus. I'm asking all of you, as a member of the Steelman Lesbian and Gay Action League--otherwise known as 'LEGAL,' even though we're not, in the state of Texas." He flashed a momentary grin. "I ask you to continue to accept everyone here for what we all are: human beings of worth and dignity."

Applause and whistles from the spectators, mixed with a few jeers, greeted his words. Jon stood silent, impressed by Kevin's quiet composure. Later that afternoon, he dialed Kevin's voice mailbox. When the tone sounded, he said, speaking rapidly, "Kevin, this is Jon Evans. You may remember I taught you freshman English. Just wanted to say bravo for your speech this afternoon. That took courage. I don't think I had half as much when I was your age. Thanks again." He put down the phone quickly, wondering whether he had done a wise thing.

A few days later, as he sat in his office, there was a tap at his partly opened door. He turned and saw Kevin. "Dr. Evans," he said. He came toward Jon and extended his hand. "Your message meant a lot to me. I wanted to thank you personally, not just leave you a voice mail."

Jon shook hands, wondering why he felt so nervous. "I meant it, Kevin."

"I know, and I really appreciated it, especially after those death threats," Kevin grinned wryly, an expression Jon later learned was very characteristic. "I've got to get to class. Talk to you later, OK?"

"Sure," Jon replied, and watched the student go. Some feeling stirred within him for which he instinctively knew he was not prepared, and he pushed it back. But he found himself whistling and smiling at odd moments for the rest of that day.

After that, Kevin greeted him when he saw him on campus. Jon learned that he was a psychology major and planned to go on to graduate research. He also noticed that student members of "LEGAL" whom he had never met now hailed him as if he were an old friend. Kevin must have told people about his phone call. The thought did not upset him; it even pleased him a little.

He and Kevin were not friends, though. They never spent any time together on campus, beyond the occasional chance meeting. He was not enrolled in any of Jon's classes. Yet somehow, as the next school year began, Jon found himself thinking that this would be Kevin's last year. He was surprised at how much the thought depressed him.

After commencement that May, amid the rush and whirl of people in the hot afternoon outside the gymnasium, Jon saw Kevin, in his cap and gown, standing near the main doorway, alone. Wondering why he wasn't surrounded by admiring relatives, Jon went up to him and touched him on the shoulder. Kevin turned and, seeing Jon, smiled.

"Oh hi, Dr. Evans," he said.

"Congratulations, Mr. Kuehlwasser, looking good," Jon said, shaking Kevin's hand. "Would have thought you'd be mobbed by adoring fans. No family here today?

Kevin's smile stiffened, then turned into his familiar wry grimace. "Funny you should ask. My folks are divorced. My dad's out of the country because of his job, and my mom--well, she's remarried, and I guess she had better things to do than come see her son graduate from college. Long story, pretty boring too."

Embarrassed but concerned, Jon said, "Kevin, I'm sorry, I had no idea."

Kevin shrugged. "You couldn't have known. Anyway, thanks for saying something."

"What's in your future?"

Kevin laughed, but Jon thought he detected a wistful look in his eye. "My immediate future? Well, I get to spend tonight alone in the dorm. The guy whose place I'm subletting for the summer hasn't moved out yet. Luckily they'll let me stay a few extra days. Charging me for it, of course."

"Kevin, that sounds awful. What are you doing for dinner?"

"Don't know. Some of my friends mentioned my going out with them--but I don't know if they'll remember, they're pretty busy with their families and all...I haven't told a lot of people I'm by myself, Dr. Evans. I don't want anybody feeling sorry for me," Kevin said, his jaw set.

The words rose to Jon's lips almost without conscious thought. "How about coming over to my house for dinner tonight?"


Settling Accounts Ch. 01



The younger man's eyes widened. "Really? But... I thought..."

"Thought what?"

"Well, geez, you're the campus hermit. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. It's just that lots of the other profs invite students to their houses, and you never do."

Jon said, "You're not a student any more." He smiled into the cool gray eyes he had often admired. "No one should have to eat dinner alone on graduation night. What do you say?"

"Heck, I'd be honored, Dr.---"

"Kevin," Jon interrupted, "call me Jon, okay? How's six-thirty sound?"

"Great... Jon. Do I need to get dressed up? Bring anything?"

Jon laughed. "You've graduated, remember? No need to try and impress me. And I'm honored that you've accepted my invitation. Do you know how to get to my place?"

The front doorbell rang at six twenty-five. When Jon answered it, Kevin was on the front step, dressed in gray slacks and a light-colored polo shirt. Jon was amused but touched that he had felt the need to dress up. In his arms Kevin carried a bottle. He thrust it forward and said, diffidently, "Hello. I... brought this."

"Thank you, Kevin."

"I mean, it's stupid... I don't even know if it matches what you've got for dinner, but..."

"Doesn't matter. Believe me, it's not that kind of meal," Jon laughed. "Come on in."

The slight stiffness between them wore off as Jon served his utilitarian but hearty meal. Helped by glasses of the wine Kevin had brought, they were soon talking freely on a variety of topics.

"So what do you remember about me from your English comp class, Jon?" Kevin asked.

"I remember being nervous the first day about saying your last name," Jon grinned. "Finally I decided I'd be a snob and go with the German pronunciation."

"Which is exactly the way I say it--Kewl-vahsser. Means 'cool water.'"

"Yeah, I thought it fitted you so well. Cool. You'll fit right in at Berkeley with your California attitude."

Kevin laughed. "California attitude? That doesn't sound like a compliment."

"You were just a mite casual about handing in your papers on time."

"Guilty as charged. I always thought you cut me a lot of slack. I appreciated that."

"Glad you noticed."

A wicked glint appeared in Kevin's eye. "Thought maybe--you had the hots for me. Was disappointed that I was wrong.

Jon said, seriously, "That's one thing I'd never do, get involved with a student. Too much bad shit can happen. Want some ice cream?"

During dessert Kevin put down his spoon and looked at his former professor. "This has been great, Jon. I probably would've been sitting by myself at the local Whataburger tonight if it hadn't been for you. Thanks."

Jon looked back at him, sitting straight in his chair, serious and sincere with his fine blond hair and gray eyes. Kevin had grown a goatee during his final semester that made him look even younger than he was. Jon felt a rush of warmth, mixed with a strong awareness of Kevin's attractiveness. He felt a stirring in his lower body and shifted in his chair, glad that the dining room table separated them at the moment.

"My pleasure," he said. "I always did regret having you only for that one English class. You've been a well-known figure on this campus, a credit to the school."

Kevin laughed. "Well, I'd agree with the first--not sure about the second."

"I think you've been great. Your work with LEGAL revitalized it. You've been a model and inspiration for all gays on campus. You certainly inspired me. I wish I'd had your courage when I was your age. I was a scared, skinny, lonely and ugly kid."

"Ugly? Don't believe that." Kevin's expression was direct, unsmiling. Jon blushed and looked away, pretending to notice for the first time that the light was fading.

"It's getting a little cooler. Why don't we take our wine, go out and sit by the pool?"

They sat in the backyard and looked at the rectangle of water. Kevin said, "This is great."

A pause, then he added, "Everything's been great. I don't want this to end." Jon looked over at him. The clear direct gaze was there again, the message unmistakable. This time Jon did not look away. He felt his pulse and breathing quicken, partly from the wine he had drunk, partly from excitement.

"So are you really a hermit, or what?" Kevin said.

"What do you mean, Mr. Kuehlwasser?"

"What's a handsome, brilliant and nice guy like you doing all alone? Oh, I know about your scruples. You were willing to make an exception for Dr. Childers, though."

"So that's common knowledge around Steelman?" Jon was surprised, though he had to admit he shouldn't have been.

Kevin shrugged. "It's a small campus." He grinned. "Especially where us queens are concerned. If you want to know the truth, we were jealous. He was a hunk."

Jon laughed despite himself at the breezy assessment. "No argument there."

Kevin's voice was suddenly filled with frustration. "You're awfully hard to read, you know that? I've had so much respect for you, the whole time I was here. I used to lie awake nights trying to think of some way to get close to you. I figured you had a thing about not doing students, but I couldn't help hoping--"

"Hoping?"

The wry look appeared again. "You are so good. I've put all my cards on the table without you saying one damn thing about how you feel. Have I made a total fool of myself? Should I just go?"

Jon gazed at the younger man, sitting with his eyes now cast downward. He looked at Kevin's hand gripping the arm of the deck chair, and saw his own hand reach out and cover it.

Kevin looked up, startled. Then, with a long sigh, he sank back into his chair and closed his eyes. He turned his hand over, his fingers interlacing with Jon's.

"It's lonely here in my cave," Jon said. "Did you hear that crash a moment ago? That was a moral scruple hitting the floor."

Kevin opened his eyes and smiled, the sarcasm gone. "I won't tell."

Later, when Jon thought back to that graduation night, it was in bits and pieces--images and sensations that would remain forever burned in his mind. There was his first close look at Kevin's torso, slender and hard with just a suspicion of chest hair, as Jon had slipped his shirt off over his head. The whiff of cologne that had entered his nostrils as he licked one of Kevin's nipples. Inhaling another, stronger scent, feeling a grasping hand on his head, as he had taken the swollen organ jutting from the blond pubes down to the root.

He remembered Kevin's profile, his head turned to the side and pressed against the sheet, his arms splayed out above, his small butt in the air as he knelt in front of Jon. His cry of mingled pain and delight as Jon had pushed his cock in. Himself uttering grunts of release against the back of Kevin's neck as he exploded into him, dimly aware of the cock underneath pumping warm fluid into his grasping hand.

They had taken a breather after that. Sometime afterward, lying in Jon's bed, Kevin had said, "Let's go skinny-dipping." He had recoiled in mock surprise when Jon said he had never done that. "I thought that's why people got their own pools."

"It's not exactly private around here," Jon said doubtfully. "There are neighbors."

"Aw c'mon, it's fun. Didn't you do it when you were a kid?"

"Never."

"You don't know what you've been missing."

Jon couldn't help smiling. "Well, I'll kill all the lights in the back. But we've got to be quiet."

They slipped naked out the back door and into the pool, now lit only by the reflection from a light in a nearby yard. The water felt glorious against Jon's unencumbered body. He started stroking to the deep end, reached the edge of the pool and paused, grasping the concrete rim. Kevin came up behind and wrapped his arms around Jon. He felt the student's lips on the side of his neck, and shivered. A hand grasped Jon's stiffening cock.

"You didn't get in the pool bareassed just to swim, did you?" Kevin whispered, teasingly."

"Sure I did," Jon retorted, though Kevin's other hand was pinching his nipple and he was having a hard time thinking coherently. "The water's not that warm, you know--unless we keep moving, we'll get chilled."

Kevin licked Jon's earlobe. "I can think of other things we can do to keep warm." He suddenly broke away and began swimming back toward the shallow end. Jon watched him go, back and shoulders glowing white in the dim light. Kevin reached the edge of the pool, climbed out, turned and sat facing Jon, his hands gripping the edge, his feet in the water, the curve of his cock rising from between his legs. Jon breaststroked toward his partner, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the tantalizing sight of Kevin, nude, dripping wet and aroused. He saw Kevin's smile broaden as he drew nearer.

He reached his goal and knelt on the pool bottom, grasping the younger man's narrow hips and easing the cock once more into his mouth. His hands roved over the smooth chest in front of him. After a while, Kevin put his hands underneath Jon's arms, urging him to a standing position. He pulled Jon's face down toward him and their mouths met in a prolonged kiss. Kevin finally broke away and mumbled something Jon didn't catch.

"What?" Jon asked.

"I said, this is a fucking fantasy come true."

Jon chuckled softly. "That makes two of us. Well, not quite."

"What do you mean?"

"I had another one just now. You fucking me. Here."

"In the pool?" Kevin laughed softly. "Professor, if your students could see you now."

"Not to mention my department chair. Or the president."

"I'll get the stuff."

Minutes later Jon was bent over, grasping the edge of the pool, as Kevin thrust into him from behind. He could still remember the heat of Kevin's body above him, the coolness of the water on his legs and crotch, the hot breath hitting the back of his damp neck as Kevin gasped harshly in the throes of orgasm. He had pulled Jon back into the water immediately afterward and jacked him off--cumming underwater, Jon discovered, was a novel and not at all unpleasant sensation. Afterward, completely drained, they had paddled slowly around for a few minutes, gotten out and dried themselves, gone inside and fallen into bed.

Sun was pouring in his bedroom window when Jon woke. Looking at the clock, he saw that it was nine-thirty. Kevin lay next to him, still asleep. He watched him for a few moments, enjoying the sight and the stillness of the morning. Finally, reluctantly, he got up, put on a pair of gym shorts and headed for the kitchen.

He had just poured his first cup of coffee when a sleepy-eyed Kevin entered the kitchen, dressed only in his briefs. "Good morning."

"Hey," Jon replied. "Want some coffee?"

"That'd be great." Kevin walked over to Jon and put his arms around him. Jon hugged him in return, touched by his simple tenderness. Kevin spoke against his chest. "I was lying in bed just now, wondering whether it was all a dream."

Jon chuckled. "It was no dream. We both smell like chlorine and my butt hurts like hell."

Astonished laughter bubbled up from Kevin. "You are fucking crude, you know that?"

"Give one moral scruple the heave, and look what happens."

"Well," Kevin said, drawing away, "I never thought graduation was going to be like this. A night to remember." He seemed suddenly shy, avoiding Jon's eyes.

Jon handed him his coffee cup, puzzled at the constraint that had sprung up between them. They sat at the kitchen table in silence for some moments. Finally Jon asked, "Are you all right?"

Kevin didn't answer for a long moment, then sighed. "I'm just being stupid," he said.

"About what?"

Kevin looked up. The gray eyes, usually so composed, were liquid and vulnerable. "The party's over. I know you're not supposed to ask if you'll be invited back. But I guess I can't help wondering."

Jon said slowly, "I was doing some thinking myself before you woke up. I came up with a crazy idea." He hesitated, then plunged ahead. "Do you have to take that sublet?"

"What are you saying?"

"I have a spare room in this house. It's a little studio apartment, actually--it has its own bathroom and entrance off the back. I've never rented it. You could have it for the summer, until you go away."

Kevin was looking at him intently. "Supposing I could get out of my sublet. I'm not going to stay here for free."

Jon said, "Of course not. You pay me what you were going to pay for your other place. Come and go as you please. You can have the run of the house. And the pool," he smiled.

"Why are you doing this?"

Jon reached across the table and took Kevin's hand. "You asked whether I'd invite you back. Fact is, I don't want you to leave--just yet. I know you'll go eventually. Until then, do you think you could keep a grumpy old man company?"

A slow smile spread over Kevin's face. "You're not old. As for grumpy, I guess I'll find out. I'll tell you one thing, Jon. I'll never look at a backyard pool quite the same way again."

Jon laughed as the joy he had felt the previous night returned. The summer ahead that had seemed so empty now loomed bright and enticing. "I'll drink to that," he said, and took another swallow of coffee.

PART THREE: FIRST DAY OF CLASS

So Kevin had come to his former professor's house for dinner on graduation night and stayed all summer. It had been one of the best summers of Jon's life, and it was about to end.

He entered his classroom building and went into the faculty mailroom on the ground floor, greeting a colleague or two along the way. He had avoided coming in for as long as possible and his box was stuffed with paper. He fished out the pile with both hands and carried the untidy mass to his office.

He fumbled in his pockets for his key when he reached his door, and just managed to get inside before the papers he was carrying fell to the floor. Cursing under his breath, Jon bent to pick them up. As he suspected, most of it was junk. He saw computer printouts, though, and fished out his class rosters for the semester. His freshman English composition class would be meeting this afternoon, so he looked for that one first. He found it and began to read with a practiced eye. All of a sudden he stopped, and stared at a name about halfway down the list: "Mulroy, David Matthew."

The rest of the papers lay forgotten at his feet. Matthew had had two children, a girl and a boy, when the family lived in Austin. He had never met Matt's family, for obvious reasons, but he recalled him talking about his son starting to kindergarten. After thirteen years, then, the boy would be around eighteen and starting college. Was it possible that Matt had sent his son to Steelman?

He and Matt had not talked for more than a decade. Soon after his lover's departure to North Carolina, Jon had e-mailed him and asked him not to write any longer. He had thought that episode of his life was far behind him, and now it suddenly looked as if he might be teaching Matt's son. What the hell was he going to do? There was nothing to do except wait and see.

In fact, the rest of his morning was so busy he had no time to think about what might happen that afternoon. It was only during lunch that he began to wonder again about who David Mulroy might be.

As Jon walked into the full classroom he scanned the sea of faces on the students sitting in the desks, almost as if Matthew might be one of them. His gaze lit upon one boy sitting in the back of the classroom and he stopped. The light brown hair, the vivid blue eyes--those features were common enough. But the line of the jaw, the smile as he caught Jon's eye--he felt the memory and the reality snap together into one piece, and he knew that this young man must be Matthew Mulroy's son, even without reading out the roster as he always did on the first day.

He returned the student's smile with a slight nod and started class. He remembered little afterward, though it must have gone much as usual. As the hour ended, he said, "David Mulroy, may I see you for a moment after class?" He was mildly amused at the anxiety that momentarily crossed David's face, as it did that of almost any student who was singled out.

As the rest of the students filed noisily out, David came up to him. "Dr. Evans, you wanted to see me?"

"David," Jon said, "It's nothing critical, sorry to single you out. I'm wondering, though, if I might know your father."

"Dad? How?"

"Did you used to live in Austin, maybe ten or twelve years ago? Your father, did he work for Dell? Matthew Mulroy?"

"That's right," David said, surprised. "We moved away when I was real little, I'd just started kindergarten. So how do you know Dad?"

Jon had not thought of how he might answer this question, and hesitated a moment. "He--well, he used to work out at a gym I went to. We kind of became running partners. He was a great guy, we were good friends."

David smiled. "That's Dad all right, he knows everyone. Still tries to work out too, though he's real busy these days."

Jon said, "We haven't talked for years, kind of lost touch. But I wondered if you might be related when I saw your name. When I saw you I was sure--you look quite a bit like him."

"Yeah, everyone says that. Well, that's cool." Then, catching Jon by surprise, David said, "You want his e-mail address?"

Jon said, "Well--sure. If you'd think he'd want to hear from me."

"Sure. Dad just lives at that computer anyway. He runs his own software marketing company now, you know."

"Really, I didn't know that."

"I bet he'd love to hear from you." David pulled a wallet from his pocket and fished a business card out. "I actually have his card. You can take it. There's his e-mail at the bottom."

Jon thanked David and put the business card in his wallet without looking at it. Later that afternoon in his office, just before walking home, he took it out and looked at it a long time, thinking.

When he got home, the house was silent. Kevin always seemed to be out these days, running one errand or another in preparation for his move to California. Untidiness was rampant. There were boxes, wrapped, sealed and with Kevin's Berkeley address on them piled in the front hallway today. Jon sighed inwardly at yet another tangible sign of changes in his life. The house was warm despite the air conditioning. He went in the kitchen and got himself a glass of water, and sat at the table, trying to unwind. Finally he got up. He decided on an impulse to mail the boxes for Kevin. Grunting with the effort he carried them out one by one, loaded them in his car and took them to the post office.

He saw Kevin's car in the driveway when he returned. As he was getting out, the front door opened and Kevin came toward him. From the expression on his face Jon sensed something was wrong. "Hey, guy," he said. "Anything the matter?"

"What did you do with those boxes?"

"Let's go in the house, it's hot as hell out here." When they were inside, Jon turned to Kevin and said, "I mailed them just now. Weren't they all ready to go? By the way, I filled out a change of address form for you while I was there."

Kevin rolled his eyes. "And I suppose you have people coming to look at the apartment too. Would you like me to move to the motel so you can clean the house?"

Jon felt anger rise in him. "What the hell's the matter with you?"

"I was your student, and I'm twenty years younger than you. But don't treat me like a goddamn child. I've got the plane ticket, don't worry, I'm out of here come Saturday. You just can't wait, can you?"

He stormed off. Jon heard a distant door slam a moment later. He must have gone into his own apartment. He sat for a while in the living room, wrapped in gloom. Why were they fighting? He went to his office and buried himself in mundane preparations for next day's classes. When he finished he found that an hour and a half had passed. There had been no sound from Kevin. Jon quietly walked to door of the studio apartment and tried it. Finding it unlocked, he pushed it open very slowly. Kevin was lying on his own bed, which he seldom used, turned away from the door. Something painful gripped Jon's heart at the sight of him asleep, looking small and vulnerable, dressed only in battered khaki shorts. He shut the door and looked at his watch--it was getting toward dinner time.




Settling Accounts Ch. 01



He was standing next to the sink paring vegetables when he heard movement behind him. Kevin was walking into the kitchen. He had put on a t-shirt. He did not come up to Jon but sat silently at the table.

"Have a good rest?" Jon said, turning back to his work, trying to keep his voice neutral.

"Yeah." A few moments passed, then, "I know I was an asshole a while ago. I'm sorry."

Jon said carefully, "It's okay. Things are kind of unsettled around here for both of us." He paused, and then said, "We shouldn't fight. Let's make the most of this week."

"This last week," Kevin said. "I just wish you weren't so happy I'm going."

Jon turned and protested, "That's not fair, Kevin. Why do you keep saying that?"

"Well for Pete's sake, you're so goddamned efficient, mailing my boxes, filing my change of address form. You can't wait to be alone."

"I'm just trying to help."

"Jon," Kevin said sadly, "Why won't you ask me to stay?"

Jon closed his eyes. "We've been through this already. You're a brilliant young man with a great future. I'm not going to stand in the way of that."

"People have thrown away their futures before to stay with the person they loved," Kevin said, his voice shaking slightly.

When Jon stayed silent, he dropped his eyes and said. "I should have known you wouldn't say you love me."

Jon said, "I do love you. That's why I'm not going to let you stay in this boring town with an over-the-hill academic."

Silence, then Kevin shrugged in resignation. "Okay, I'll go." A hint of a smile appeared on his face. "Do I get what I want for my last meal?"

Jon said, "You know, I don't feel much like cooking any more. Let's bag this and go out to eat, get away from this mess, what do you say?"

They went to the best place in town, a quiet little restaurant on the square. They sat, and ate, and talked quietly, and held hands underneath the table. As they finished dessert, Kevin began to gaze at Jon steadily in a way that had aroused him since the first night they were together.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Jon asked, though he knew the answer.

"Cause you're so fucking hot." Kevin's smile was wicked. His fingers tickled Jon's palm under the table. "Where the hell am I going to find a dick like yours in California?"

"Christ, you're bad," Jon said, stifling a laugh. "You're going to have to cut that out. I can't get up from the table."

"I'll ease up just long enough for you to drive us home, stud."

They got inside the door and were immediately in each other's arms. Kevin's lips sought out Jon's. His hands roved to Jon's belt and unfastened it, unzipping his fly. Jon's hands unbuttoned Kevin's shirt and feverishly slid across his chest. They left a trail of clothing in the hallway leading to the bedroom.

As they rolled and grappled and slid on the bed, Jon whispered to Kevin, "Restrain me, would you?"

Kevin smiled, his eyes sparkling. "So you want to play rough, huh? You asked for it." He reached into the drawer of the nightstand and drew out two pairs of handcuffs. He quickly and expertly shackled each of Jon's arms to the headboard, so that he was spread-eagled on the bed. When he was finished, Kevin paused and looked down at his prisoner. "God, you look so damn hot like that." His cock stood out stiffly in front of him.

There was no brutality to Kevin's particular brand of control. Instead, with the aid of lubricant and light and expert touches of his hands and mouth on Jon's body, he soon brought him to the edge of orgasm. He stopped and let Jon's need recede, then went to work on him again. He manipulated Jon very slowly, moving his hand delicately over the swollen head, while lightly rubbing lube on one of his erect nipples. Soon Jon thought he would go insane from the gentle, ceaseless torment. He was helpless to stop it. He started to thrust his body upward, trying to get some real friction going, and Kevin broke all contact. Jon groaned in frustration and his partner grinned.

"Not yet, buddy."

"Please," Jon begged. Kevin shook his head, still smiling, and began the slow masturbation again, this time ending each stroke with a sharp twisting motion as he drew his hand away. Jon felt two fingers being inserted into his asshole. In a moment they were nudging at his prostate in rhythm to the hand strokes. His arousal rose another pitch but still he could not get himself over the edge. He was sweating and gasping, his cock swollen to bursting. "Damn it, Kevin!" he shouted.

"Ooh, bad language. We're going to have to punish you for that." Kevin withdrew his fingers. Then Jon felt a much bigger object against his hole. He cried out as the butt plug broke through and filled his rectum. "That'll leave my hands free," Kevin said. He clambered onto the bed, straddled Jon's body and took the erection in his hand again. Jon felt his cock pushing at Kevin's anus. It slid in and his organ was surrounded by smooth moist heat.

Kevin gasped and closed his eyes. "Oh yeah," he said. He kept his body still as he adjusted to the invasion, then slowly bent his knees until Jon's entire length was inside him. Opening his eyes again, he smiled. "We've got a long way to go yet, baby," he said.

He began to pull himself up with exquisite slowness until his ass muscles were grasping only the head of Jon's cock. He slid up and down on the glans until Jon grunted with pleasure. "Like that?" Kevin laughed. "Better stop." He suited the action to the words, staying suspended for a long moment, then suddenly let himself down so that Jon's cock surged back into him in a huge stroke. Jon shouted again.

For what seemed like hours Kevin rode Jon's cock, varying his movements so that Jon was constantly kept off balance. At last, when Jon was ready to weep with frustration and the need for release, Kevin began to ride his unbearably tormented cock with hard rapid strokes. Jon let out a wail of release as he spewed spurt after spurt into his captor's gut. "That's it baby, give me your load," Kevin said through gritted teeth as he masturbated his own cock rapidly, sliding forward over Jon's chest. A few more quick strokes and warm jets of cum splattered over his face, mustache and tongue. He swallowed as much as he could. Kevin moved forward to let him take his still pulsing dick into his mouth. After he had cleaned it off, Kevin pulled out and looked down at Jon, naked and dripping with his semen. "God, if you could see yourself now," he said, his voice soft with lust.

He bent and began to lick his own load off Jon's face. When he had done this he kissed Jon and emptied his collected sperm into him. They swapped it back and forth as their tongues and lips met in languid caresses.

Kevin got up, removed the butt plug and unlocked the cuffs. At last Jon could enfold him in his arms. Embracing him tightly, he felt a lump in his throat.

His lover raised his head at that moment and smiled at him. Kevin's eyes glittered in the candlelight. "Why don't we just stay in bed until I have to get on that plane?" he said.

PART FOUR: E-MAILS TO JON

From: kevincool@maillink.xxxx.edu
To: evansj@mail.xxxx.edu
Date: 9/02/02

Jon, sorry I haven't written sooner. I've been running around, settling in, dealing with bureaucratic shit. Berkeley is great so far, real college town, beautiful area. Close to San Francisco too :-).

Things got kind of weird for us at the end I know. I'm sorry about that. FWIW, I would have stayed gladly, had you asked. You were pretty convincing about how that wouldn't be a good idea. Now that I'm actually here, I'm feeling a little better about it. But I miss you man...Take care. Love, Kevin

From: mmulroy@xxxx.com
To: evansj@mail.xxxx.edu
Date: 9/04/02

Dear Jon,

What a surprise to hear from you. I had no idea you were still teaching at Steelman College--we've been out of touch for so long. I'm delighted though that you're teaching my son. He is a good boy, and smart too, I think, though you know us parents...Your e-mail brought up a lot of stuff for me. I'm sure running into David was a bit of a shock for you as well. Right now, I'd have to say my emotions are mixed--a lot has happened since I left Austin, more than you can possibly imagine with my career and my life, and I'm sure the same is true for you too. I'm really glad you wrote, though. Let's stay in touch, okay?

Best wishes,

Matt

From: kevincool@maillink.xxxx.edu
To: evansj@mail.xxxx.edu
Date: 9/20/02

Jon, just had to write and tell you a weird thing happened--not bad, just weird. I went into the city this past weekend to check out the Castro and stuff. Well, I walked into the Names Project headquarters on Market Street and ran smack into Ward Childers, remember him? Looking mighty good, too. Anyway, I recognized him right away but he was staring at me funny as though he couldn't quite place me. So I went up to him and introduced myself and said I was from Steelman in Texas, blah blah. He teaches at SF State now. The FIRST thing he said to me was, "Oh, do you know Jon Evans?" Well, what could I say? I didn't tell him everything right off the bat, of course.

But the thing is, Jon, he asked me for a date. We really hit it off. Are you cool with that? I thought at first, well, things are over between Jon and me, why not? But it's WARD, for gosh sakes, there's a bit of history between him and you too. Anyway, it may be stupid, but I thought I'd just write and tell you about it. Guess you must know by now I have a thing for older guys. Seriously, write and tell me what you think. Can't promise I'll take your advice, but I want it :-). Kevin

From: ChilyW@xxxx.com
To: evansj@mail.xxxx.edu
Date: 9/23/02

Jonno, long time no talk! You know, you were right. I tried to keep in touch, didn't I? But the Bay area has so many distractions... Speaking of distractions, I met a former student of yours last week, Kevin Kuehlwasser [a good German name :-)]. I suppose he's told you about that already. He's a cool customer, that one. We were well along before he told me that he didn't just know you, he really knew you. I'm feeling kind of guilty about it, much to my surprise, as if I betrayed you. He told me that you "gave him his freedom," like practically ordered him out of the house. You know, I believe him, that sounds just like the self-sacrificing Jonathan I knew, and loved. I can say that now...

Anyway, I'm not sure what I want from you, other than an e-mail letting me know how you're doing... your blessing perhaps? Sounds silly I know, but it would make me feel better.

I miss you, and I miss Steelman too. Dealing with students at SF State makes it all seem like a beautiful dream. Let me know how it's going in Utopia, OK?

Ward

From: mmulroy@xxxx.com
To: evansj@mail.xxxx.edu
Date: 9/23/02

Dear Jon:

I'm writing to tell you that I'll be at Steelman at the end of next month for Parents' Weekend. I thought about this a long time. Naturally I want to visit David, and he's told me he'd love for me to come. I really couldn't explain to him why I had mixed feelings about it. You see, Jon, my children still don't know about you and me, or about me and other men. I suppose you think I'm a coward for not telling them, and maybe I am. But there you have it.

Jon, would you like to get together? I'm not even sure that you would. After all, you're the one who told me to stop writing. But it would be very strange for me to be where you live and work and not see you. Besides, I have a feeling it will be almost impossible for us not to run into each other on campus, unless you're going to be away. Maybe you will be now that you know I'm coming :-). I hope not, though.

Anyway, I'm flying in on Friday night and staying until Sunday morning. I know I'm going to take my son out for dinner on Saturday--that's the first thing he asked for, of course. Might you join us? Let me know what you think. I'm looking forward to hearing from you.

Best, Matt

TO BE CONTINUED... 



Settling Accounts Ch. 02



PART FIVE: DINNER FOR THREE

Parents' Weekend happened the last weekend in October. Matt had e-mailed Jon that he would be flying in from North Carolina late Friday night and going straight to a motel in town. Events for parents and their student children were planned all day on Saturday, but Matt thought they could go out to dinner along with David on Saturday night. So far, he hadn't mentioned the two of them spending any time by themselves.

Jon arranged to meet Matthew and David at his office at around six o'clock Saturday evening. He got there early and left the door ajar. After trying to read for a few minutes he gave up, getting up and pacing, then looking out the window. His heart was racing with excitement and nerves. What would Matthew look like after so many years? How would Jon look to him? Would they have anything to say to one another? Perhaps they would have turned into strangers.

He heard a polite tap at his door.

"Jon?" Matthew asked, smiling tentatively.

The man Jon had known and loved he remembered mostly in casual clothes: jeans, khakis and colorful shirts. The man who stood before him was dressed carefully in a dark suit and subdued but elegant necktie, everything in place and crisply pressed, the shoes polished, the collar straight. The man Jon had known had been clean-shaven. This man had a mustache. The hair was the same light brown though, a bit thinner perhaps; the eyes the same blue, the dimples the same.

Jon had wondered how he would react when he first saw him, whether he would embrace him, shake his hand, or simply wait. He was saved the trouble of deciding as Matt stepped forward and hugged him, hard, clapping him on the back. "Jon, it's so good to see you," he heard him say.

Jon returned the embrace. "Good to see you too."

"How long has it been?"

"Thirteen years." Matt's hair did have a few gray strands, now that he was looking more closely. His friend's face also had a few more lines. No doubt he had aged too.

"I'd never know it from looking at you."

Jon snorted, but was pleased. "That's not true, but thanks."

"No, I mean it. You look great. How do you keep in shape?"

"You're looking good too, Matt. Damn elegant, actually. Makes me feel kind of rumpled."

"You're fine. I kind of have to dress like this now. It's more work, I can tell you that."

"How was your trip?"

They continued to make desultory conversation as they waited for David to arrive. Jon began to relax a bit. Matthew seemed the same sociable, open person he had met long ago. As yet much remained unrevealed about what had happened during their years apart, but Jon found himself looking forward to what their evening might bring. Once or twice he thought he detected a faint, questioning look in Matt's otherwise cheerful eyes--perhaps he was wondering too.

They heard footsteps around the corner. "Ah, here he comes."

"Hey, Dad. You found the office. So, Dr. Evans, has he changed a lot?"

"Beyond recognition," Jon smiled.

"For the better, I hope," Matt said in mock annoyance.

"Actually, I'm joking, David. Your dad's the same guy I used to know." Jon saw that his meaning was not lost on Matt, but David said, "Well, I guess that's good. Where are we eating, Dad? You're the one who's treating, right?" he grinned.

"Well, I guess that's settled," Matt said dryly. "Where would you like to eat, son?"

"Hmm," David said, "Since I'm not paying--I've heard good things about San Cristobal down in Austin."

Jon whistled. "Mr. Mulroy, your son has just chosen the most elegant and expensive Mexican restaurant in Central Texas."

"Sounds good to me," Matt winked. "You know how to get there, Jon?"

The restaurant was crowded, the food delicious. Jon wished he could talk more freely to Matt, but David's presence prevented total candor. The boy seemed rather shy at the moment, but that could just be the strain of going out to dinner with both his father and professor.

"So, Jon, what's the scoop on my son? Is he going to flunk out?"

"Oh, Dad," David said.

"Actually, David's doing well in my class," Jon said. "He's one of the students I enjoy."

"That's good. Means he's not taking after his father," Matt chuckled.

"Yes, I remember you telling me that," Jon said, and suddenly had an image of where that conversation had taken place--in a hotel room where he and Matthew had hidden away for a rare weekend together, making passionate love.

Tearing himself with an effort away from the memory, he asked David, "So how does it feel, coming back to Texas?"

"Well, to tell the truth, I don't remember much about it," David said. "I was only five when we moved away."

"He was the one who was looking forward to going back to North Carolina," Matt said. "He knew his grandparents would be thrilled to see him. They just thought he was the cutest thing. He was, actually."

"So--how's everyone's dinner?" David asked, pointedly.

"Okay, son," Matt laughed, "I'll take the hint."

"Actually, Matt," Jon said, "I'd love to hear more about what you've been up to since you left Austin."

Matt sighed. "I'm not really into blowing my own horn. But okay."

He had continued to rise through the ranks of his company after moving to North Carolina, being promoted to positions of increasing responsibility. A few years ago, he had started his own software development business. Despite Matt's modesty Jon deduced that this had proved to be a tremendous success.

"Not bad for a guy with a C average in college," David said, listening to a tale he had obviously heard before.

Matt sighed with mock exasperation. "You see what a hard time my kids give me? He says that every time I get on him about keeping his grades up."

"Matt, I really am impressed. You've done well for yourself. And raised a fine son, too. You and David's mom should be proud."

He saw the sudden shadow pass over David and Matthew's faces.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"No, not really, Jon. You couldn't have known. Christine passed away a few years ago."

"He doesn't know about Mom, Dad?" David asked, puzzled. "I thought you two were old friends."

"Well, we really have been out of touch a while, David," Matthew said. He looked genuinely pained and Jon regretted his remark.

"I'm really sorry to hear that, and I'm sorry to have brought it up, Matt," he said.

Matthew smiled, suddenly looking tired. "Not your fault, Jon."

They continued to chat over dessert but a slight pall had fallen over the evening. When the waiter came back with Matt's credit card, he signed the slip immediately. "We'd better get this hard-working, studious fellow back to his dorm," he said, rising from the table.

Jon drove David and Matt back to the campus. They stopped in front of David's freshman dormitory. David said, "Thanks for the ride, Dr. Evans. Bye, Dad. Have a good trip tomorrow," opened his car door, and jumped from the car.

"Hey, hold on a minute," Matt protested, and getting out himself, followed David toward the front doors. Watching them go, Jon was once again struck by how much they resembled one another. Matthew and his son paused and talked briefly in front of the dorm lobby. David hugged his father and disappeared inside.

Matt came walking back to the car and got back inside. "Can you believe that boy of mine?" he laughed. "I'm not going to see him until Christmas, and that was all the goodbye I was going to get."

"He hugged you," Jon said. "That was nice."

"Yeah, he really is a sweet kid. I sure do miss having him around. I'm all alone now. Jill, my daughter, got married right out of college. She and her husband live near Philly."

"You're not going to see him tomorrow?" Jon asked.

"Well, I have an early flight. I told David I'd take a cab or limo to the airport. He offered to join me for breakfast at the motel, but... we've been with each other all day. He'll survive."

"Maybe I ought to take you back now, if you need to get an early start," Jon said.

"No way in hell," Matt smiled, putting his hand on Jon's shoulder. "I came fifteen hundred miles to see you. You aren't getting away that easy."

Jon was filled with a pleasant warmth at Matt's touch. This was exactly what he had hoped for. "So what do you suggest we do?"

"Well, do I get to see where you live?" Matt asked.

"No sooner said than done," Jon replied.

PART SIX: SETTLING ACCOUNTS

They entered Jon's dark and silent house. "Nice place," Matt said, as Jon flipped the light on.

Jon shrugged. "I'm sure it's not as nice as what you have. But I like it. And it has a pool."

Matt was looking at a framed picture of Kevin hanging in the front hallway. "A student of yours?"

"Yes." Something in his tone must have alerted Matt, who said, "Is there more to this story?"

"Well, yes," Jon admitted. "I'll tell you after a few drinks, maybe."

Matt raised his eyebrows, but said only, "I see."

Jon got some ice and water from the kitchen and mixed Scotch and waters for the two of them in the living room. Matt slipped off his suit jacket and laid it next to him as they settled side by side on the couch. It seemed natural for Jon to put his arm around Matt, and for Matt to lean comfortably on Jon's shoulder. They sat in companionable silence for several moments, sipping their drinks.

Matt said finally, "You know, I was really nervous about seeing you today."

Jon chuckled, "You and me both, buddy."

"I was shaking like a leaf walking down the hall toward your office. I thought, what if it turns out we have nothing to say to each other? What if I've changed so much he doesn't like me any more?"

"Well, you have changed some," Jon said, stroking Matt's hair, "But I still like you."

Matt looked Jon in the eye and smiled. "That's a load off my mind."

They continued to gaze at one another. Just as Jon felt some other emotion, long dormant, begin to flow between them, Matt broke the contact and took a hasty swallow from his glass.

"So tell me about the young man in the hallway," he said.

Jon sighed as his mixed emotions came to the surface. "Kevin? Where do I start?" he said. "Kevin is a former student of mine. He came to dinner on graduation night last May and--stayed all summer. He's in graduate school at Berkeley now, in a great program."

"One of many beautiful young men in your life?"

Disappointed by Matt's abrupt withdrawal, Jon felt unaccountably irritated by his remark. "Actually, I've always had a strict hands-off policy concerning Steelman students. So you don't have to worry about David."

Matt drew away. "That's not what I meant at all, Jon."

"Sorry, that was out of line," Jon said, trying to mollify him. "Guess you poked me where it still hurts. You have to understand, Kevin knew damn well what he wanted when he came here. As well as you knew what you wanted when you started talking to me online so long ago."

"Touche," Matt smiled.

"He's a smart and courageous kid, and he has his whole life in front of him. He would have stayed if I'd asked him. But I wasn't going to let him throw it all away for me."

"But you miss him."

"I do," Jon said simply. "As much I missed you after you left."

"Oh, Jon," Matt sighed heavily, holding his drink with both hands and looking down into his glass, "Would it help you to know that those months we had together were the last time I was truly happy?"

"I know you've had some rough times. You told me about your wife."

Matt's laugh was short and bitter. "You don't know the half of it. Do you really want to hear the rest? It's not pretty."

"Actually, I would."

"Okay. This isn't going to be easy. You're the first one to hear the whole story." Matt took another swallow of Scotch.

"After I left you for the last time, thirteen years ago," he began, "I was a basket case for weeks. Couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, could hardly work. I told Christine I missed Austin a lot more than I thought I was going to. She bought that, somehow.

"For years I didn't even try to meet any other guys. I knew I could never find anyone else like you. But finally, I guess the old urges came back, and I started chatting online and meeting people, the same way I met you. But I was real careful this time to keep things real impersonal, just pure sex. Most of the guys I fooled around with wanted the same thing, so it was easy. But finally I made a mistake."

"What happened?"

"I hooked up with a guy who worked in my company," Matt said. "I think I told you I did that once before. Only this guy was single. I'd been doing one-night stands but with him I went back for more. He was pretty hot, I have to say--taught me some things you hadn't." He grinned briefly. "But he also turned out to be a nutcase, very jealous and possessive. After a few months I'd had enough. Tried to break it off. He went to Christine."

"Oh, shit."

"It was a while before I found all of this out. Chris listened to him, then told him if he didn't stop harassing us, she'd call the police and our boss and have him fired, as well as arrested for stalking. But she'd heard enough that she started going through my computer. She found e-mails I'd stupidly saved, pictures, the works."

"And she confronted you?"

"That was the damndest thing, Jon." Matt's voice became unsteady. "She didn't say anything about it, not to me, not to anyone--just kept it all inside. I knew something was wrong, but I had no idea what it was. Greg had stopped bothering me--I thought he had given up. I thought I was home free."

"Then one night, I heard a noise and woke up. Chris wasn't in the bed. I went out in the hall and found her collapsed in agony on the floor. I took her to the ER--they did emergency surgery. It turned out to be cancer."

"Jesus." Jon's glass sat forgotten on the coffee table.

"It was while she was in the hospital afterward that I found out what she knew," Matt said. "Knocked me totally for a loop, of course. Even now I can hear her voice, how flat and distant it was as she told me everything that happened." He drained his Scotch and set the glass down on the coffee table.

"Why didn't she tell you before?"

"She said--she said she was embarrassed and humiliated at what she'd found. She couldn't bring herself to talk about it with any one, especially not me. And she said she felt guilty about going through my private stuff, she'd wished she'd never done it. She was the one who felt guilty--pretty funny, huh?

"Chris told me that she'd suspected I was gay for years. As long as she didn't have any real evidence, she'd more or less just hoped it wasn't true. She thought about the kids, our whole life together. She didn't want to wreck it. You were right, Jon. Do you remember we talked about this?"

Jon nodded.

"I cried, promised never to do it again, said I'd do anything if only she'd forgive me. All she said was,'Don't let the children know about any of this.' She wouldn't look at me.

"The next two years were pure hell. I took Chris back and forth from the hospital for radiation and chemo, tried to reassure the kids, run the house, go to work. All the time knowing I was taking care of someone who despised me, who had every right to do so.

Tears began to trickle down Matt's cheeks. "She got worse and worse. Gradually we realized there was no hope. One day, a few weeks before she died, I'd taken her out to the garden. By then she was in a wheelchair and on morphine round the clock. Of course she slept a lot. I was sitting beside her, when she woke up and said my name. All of a sudden she reached out her hand. I hadn't slept with her or touched her except to take care of her since all of this had started. I took it in my own and then she... she..."

He managed to regain control. "She apologized, she said, 'I've been so cold and hateful to you these past months. I don't want you to remember me like that.' I stuttered something about her having a right to be angry, and she said, 'I've done a lot of thinking. I know you couldn't help what you did, and that you loved me as much as you could.' She asked me to take good care of the kids."

Jon took Matt in his arms and held him tightly as he sobbed on his shoulder. He felt tears on his own face. Finally Matt let go, fished in his jacket pocket, took out a handkerchief and wiped his eyes and face. He stared silently at the floor, his elbows on his knees. Jon rubbed his back, bowed with sorrow.

Matt looked up and smiled, still shaky. "That was even worse than I thought it was going to be."

"Matt," Jon said, brushing away his own tears, "If I say something, will you promise to think about it?"

"What?"

"You've got to stop torturing yourself."

"Easier said than done, buddy."

"Your wife was a fine person, and she forgave you. Now forgive yourself." He took Matt's face in both hands and wiped away the remaining tears with his thumbs. "I remember something else I told you long ago that I still think is true. Being loved has nothing to do with whether you deserve it. Your wife loved you. Your children love you. I love you."

"Do you--still?" Matt asked, grasping Jon's wrists.

In answer, Jon kissed him, tasting his tears. He felt Matt's own mouth and body responding to his wordless message.

"Stay with me tonight," Jon said urgently, when they released each other.

Matt nodded.

In the bedroom Jon unbuttoned Matthew's shirt. Matt said with an embarrassed smile, "I've gained some weight."

"What, five pounds? Who gives a shit," Jon said, as he brushed Matt's bare shoulder with his lips.

"It's just that you do look absolutely great," Matt said, lightly brushing Jon's nipples with his thumbs, causing him to shiver.

"Well, having Kevin around kept me motivated," Jon admitted, as he began to back Matt toward the bed. "But you look fine to me. Just fine," he said, as he gently pushed him onto his back, pinning his arms down as he began to kiss him.

Soon they were both naked, grappling and twisting frantically like two men drowning, trying to save each other. They continued to kiss, their lips and tongues meeting, nibbling, licking and sucking as if they could never be satisfied.

Matt whispered to Jon, "Let me suck you." Jon felt his organ engulfed in warm moist pleasure. He lifted his head and closed his eyes as Matt slid back and forth on his shaft. Dimly Jon thought, he's gotten really good at this, as his friend took him effortlessly down to the very root, not even gagging when Jon pushed his face into his pubes and began to thrust with his pelvis, fucking his face. He felt himself approaching orgasm and withdrew, not wanting it to end just yet.

He looked down at Matt's face, slick with saliva that had leaked out of the corners of his mouth, his eyes tearing from the strain of having Jon's penis stuffed down his throat. "Nice work, cocksucker," Jon said, grinning. "Now it's my turn."

He got off the bed onto the floor, pulling Matt by the legs after him. He knelt and took Matt's cock into his mouth, pushing his tongue deep into the piss slit, lapping up the salty fluid leaking from the opening. He lifted Matt's legs into the air, making straight for the asshole with his tongue. Matt began to groan quietly as Jon rimmed him. Soon he was whimpering helplessly as Jon's entire mouth kissed his hole, his lips forming a tight seal as he continued to thrust his tongue into the opening.

"Fuck me Jon," he said.

Jon released his hold on Matt's thighs and reached into the nightstand, taking out the necessary equipment. He got the rubber on and squeezed out a handful of lube, applying it slowly to his erection as Matt watched his every move. He took the rest and began to apply the lubricant slowly to the cleft between Matt's butt cheeks, occasionally letting a finger slip inside the hole.

"Hurry," Matt said.

Jon shook his head, smiling. "I'm enjoying the view too much."

"Aw, please, Jon," Matt pleaded. "Give it to me now, buddy."




Settling Accounts Ch. 02



Jon looked at Matt's erection, leaking clear fluid onto his stomach. "You got it." He stood between Matt's legs and let his weight slowly move forward. He felt resistance, then the tight ring of sphincter muscle passing over the glans, an exquisite sensation. There was no sound in the room except for their breathing, then a quick intake of breath from Matt as Jon's dick slid inside him.

Jon kept his eyes locked on Matt's face as he continued to push in until his entire length was surrounded by smooth heat. He dropped his eyes to where he and Matt were joined, watching his condom-covered shaft begin to slide in and out of the cleft behind Matt's ball sac, past hair matted with lube. He moved faster and faster, Matt crying out every time he slammed in cock in. He was a human engine, his cock a piston ramming his partner.

Jon threw his head back and closed his eyes. Nothing existed for him but the joy of being at one with a man he loved. He felt his climax approach and said through gritted teeth, "I'm getting close, Matt."

"Go for it, Jon. Use me any way you want, baby."

Staying inside Matt, Jon pushed him back so that he could climb onto the bed. He pressed down onto Matt's body until his partner was bent double with his knees against his chest. In this position Jon began to pound into him again, uncaring now of Matt's discomfort or helplessness, thinking only of his final drive toward release. A moment later he began to shout hoarsely as the cum came boiling up out of his balls, through the end of his cock, and into the rubber buried deep in Matt's rectum.

It was a minute before Jon's brain could process anything than the explosion rocking his body. When he opened his eyes he saw that Matt was pulling furiously on his own cock. His body heaved and jets of sperm shot across his chest and stomach, one hitting his chin. He did not shout or groan, but his expression was the same intense mixture of agony and delight Jon remembered so well. He leaned forward, kissed Matt and licked cum off his upper body, then pulled out and lay next to him, still panting. Matt's hand sought his own as they both stared at the ceiling, their breathing slowly returning to normal.

At last Matt turned and smiled. "That was worth waiting thirteen years for," he said.

Jon did not reply for a minute, then said, "Jesus, Matt, when did you get to be such a hot fuck? Not that you were bad before," he added hastily.

Matt snorted. "I wasn't bad, I was terrible. Let me put it this way. Greg was a shitfaced prick, but he was damn good in bed. Guess some of it rubbed off. Don't know if it was worth all the agony, though." His face suddenly clouded.

"What is it?"

Matt sighed. "Well, we're together again, but for how long? Jon, I'm getting on a plane for the east coast tomorrow morning."

"This morning," Jon corrected him, looking at the bedside clock. The euphoria of their reunion was quickly fading. Matt was right--he was going back and they would both be alone once more.

"I remember the last time we were together like this I ended up bawling my head off," Matt said, turning on his side to face Jon, "But it's funny, right now I'm happy. It means a lot to me that you still have the same feelings, Jon. That's going to get me through a lot of lonely nights."

"Matt, you deserve better than memories," Jon said. "But there's one thing you need to do before you'll be truly happy."

"What's that?"

"Tell your family the truth about yourself."

"Jon, how can I possibly do that?"

"Matt, how can you not do it? All your life you've tried to get what you need by sneaking around behind people's backs. That hasn't worked real well, has it? You've raised your children to be open-minded and accepting, I know you have. They're not going to turn on you."

Matt was silent for long moments, then said, "I've been hiding all my life. I am tired of that, it's true."

"You've paid your dues. You took care of your wife. You've raised two kids to be fine adults. Now do something for yourself."

Matt laid his hand on Jon's cheek. "I'll sleep on it," he said. "And now, Professor, may I offer you some advice?"

"Shoot."

"If I were you, I would get on my knees, beg, plead, do anything to get your young man in California to come home."

Sudden pain welled up in Jon. This was not what he had expected to hear. "And why would I want to do that?" he said, trying to keep his voice light.

"Because he loves you," Matt said, "And you love him."

"No, Matt. I let him go because I love him."

"Jon, you are so much wiser than me, but this time you're wrong and I'm right." Matt turned away. "Thirteen years ago you let me go, and now it's too late--our time is past. Don't let this one go, Jon."

"Why the hell would he want to come back? And if he did, how do I know he'd stay?" Jon demanded. To his surprise his voice was unsteady. "I'm twice his age, Matt. When he's my age I'll be an old man. Why would he want to stick around for that?"

"He might leave, yes. But from all that you say he's an exceptional person. He told you he wanted to be with you. Why not give him the chance?"

"Because--I'm scared." Jon knew it was true. "Scared I'll be left alone."

"You're scared you'll be left alone, so you choose to be alone. Doesn't make much sense to me." Matt embraced him. "If I can't have you, I want you to be happy, Jon. Ask him to come back--for me."

Jon felt the warmth of Matt's shoulder against his forehead and realized it might be the last time they would be this close. Tears started again from his eyes as he nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"Jon," Matt said softly, rocking him in his arms, "It's so damn good to be with you again."

In the gray of early morning, Jon drove Matt back to his hotel and then, over his protests, to the airport. Despite being exhausted from lack of sleep and the emotion of the previous night, he felt at peace. Speeding down the freeway he and Matt caught each other's eye. Both began to snicker. "What the hell is so funny?" Jon asked, trying but failing to sound severe.

"I was thinking you look like death warmed over. I probably look exactly the same."

"You do. It sure was easier to party all night when we were David's age, wasn't it?"

At the curb in front of the terminal, he helped Matthew unload his one suitcase. They stood indecisively, then Matt said, "Who gives a fuck what anyone thinks?" and wrapped Jon in a bear hug.

"You're learning," Jon said when they broke apart.

"You take care, love," Matt said softly. "Keep in touch, okay?"

"You'd damn well better come visit before David graduates," Jon said, smiling over the lump in his throat. "I want you to meet Kevin--if he's here."

"I hope I'll have that pleasure very soon." Matt grasped his suitcase handle. "Well, I'd better be off." He gave Jon a last, one-armed hug and turned to go. "Bye," he said, looking over his shoulder and waving. Jon raised his hand in response. He watched until Matt disappeared from view inside the terminal.

Back at home he sat in his office, lost in thought. Finally, he started his computer, logged on and began to compose an e-mail message.

In the middle of the night, he was awakened by the electronic trilling of his bedside phone. "Hello?" he said sleepily.

"Jon?" a familiar voice said.

"Kevin!" Jon said, instantly alert. "How are you?"

"Okay. Oh shit, I just realized what time it was where you are. Sorry. I've been out all evening. I just got in and saw your e-mail. Had to call right away."

"That bad, huh?"

"Jon." Kevin's voice was warm. "This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever written to me. And of course I'll come back. Right away, if you want."

Jon wanted to shout with joy, but restrained himself with an effort. "Don't do that. You'll lose all your semester credit. Now that I know you're coming back, I can wait till Christmas. That way, you could transfer the courses to the UT program, if you want to apply for next year."

"Yes, Professor," Kevin laughed. "I see you have it all worked out. By the way, I have a confession to make."

"So what leather bar were you cruising tonight?"

"Actually, I was out with Ward. He's a great guy, Jon. Still thinks the world of you."

"That's sweet."

"He was saying tonight that I ought to go back to Texas. I kept saying, but he sent me away, and he said, Jon is a teacher, he gives his lovers everything he has and then waves goodbye as they go out the door. You've got to be the one to change his thinking, he said. Then I come home and get your e-mail."

"I always thought Ward was smart, as well as a stud. Tell him that for me the next time you see him."

"Jon," Kevin's voice shook slightly, "I'm so damn happy. I don't know what else to say except--I love you."

"Kevin, I don't know how many times I said it in that e-mail, but I'll say it again. I love you too."

They talked a few moments longer before Jon hung up the phone. He lay there, all thoughts of sleep banished from his mind. The corners of his mouth seemed to have a mind of their own, turning up despite his best efforts. Finally, he got up and padded through the dark house toward the back yard.

Though it was October, the night was still warm, and there was a nearly full moon. Someone in a nearby house might have been roused from sleep that night by distant shouts and laughter. Looking out an upstairs window, they would have seen a tall man, naked, leisurely stroking and swimming in his backyard pool, occasionally splashing water high in the air.

END