1 comments/  21777 views/  6 favorites

The River Runs Dry Ch. 01

By: Ken Nitsua



 Revised version copyright 2006 by the author.

This is the third of the "Steelman Tales," and a sequel to "Totaling the Balance" and "Settling Accounts."

ONE: FRIDAY EVENING, END OF MARCH, TEXAS

"Jesus Christ, why does someone always show up early when you give a party?" Kevin said. He was looking out the living room window toward the street. Darkness was beginning to fall on a pleasant spring day in Texas.

"Who?" Jon asked, as he set out bowls of snacks. He had come back late from his workout at the Steelman College gym and his hair was still damp from the shower.

"Well, it's a man and a woman. Must be Mary and Elden."

"Aha, the token straight couple." Elden Lewis was a senior colleague in Jon's department, and had received an invitation for that reason alone.

"Maybe they'll leave early too," Kevin said, rolling his eyes.

"Be nice. He did support me before the Tenure and Promotion Committee."

"So he says."

"What a cynic." At that moment the doorbell rang. "Just for that, you can answer the door."

"Anything I can do, Jon?" a voice asked behind him.

"Uh--actually, Ward, I forgot to empty that ice bag I just bought into the cooler. It's sitting on the kitchen floor. Would you mind?"

"Not a bit." Ward Childers strode toward the kitchen. Jon watched his retreating form, admiring the wide shoulders, long legs, and yes, his small, tight butt. Ward was handsomer now than when he had taught German for one year at Steelman. Was that really ten years ago? Some people aged well. He, on the other hand, felt gray and creaky these days. Maybe that was how a Professor of English was supposed to feel.

"Hello, Professor Evans." A hand touched his shoulder.

Jon turned. With an effort, he assumed the role of genial host. "Elden, Mary. Thanks so much for coming."

Elden Lewis shook his hand. "Congratulations. How does it feel to be one of the big boys?" He was a thin man, sixtyish, with gray hair streaked with its original blond and unstylish dark-rimmed glasses. His eyes were so narrow that after years of knowing him Jon wasn't sure what color they were. Mary, who sold real estate, was a largish blonde, frumpy despite her best efforts to look professional. As always when he saw them together, Jon felt a pang of sympathy for her.

"Feels great. And thank you again for your support."

The older man moved forward and his voice took on a confiding tone. "Jon, I was so glad your promotion came through. I suppose it won't do any harm now to say that some of us were, well, just a wee bit worried."

Jon raised his eyebrows. "Really."

"Your professional achievement and service to Steelman, of course, were never in question. Nor your teaching ability. There are always those who will insist on bringing up things that have nothing to do with anything."

"Such as?"

"Need I say it, Jon? Your--alternative lifestyle. The unusual nature of your household, with a former Steelman student, no less."

Despite himself Jon's curiosity was aroused. "So someone on the committee brought it up?"

Elden waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Not in so many words. But I took the bull by the horns. Defended you. Told them that as far as I was concerned, the private life of a faculty member was no concern of mine. Especially someone with as stellar a record as yours in every other aspect."

"Well." Jon kept his hands jammed in his pockets. At that moment the doorbell rang again. "Excuse me. There are drinks in the kitchen. Why don't you help yourselves?"

He flung the door open with such force that the two men on the doorstep took a step back, startled.

"I give up. Don't shoot," Philip Ramsey joked, raising his hands. He was almost as tall as Jon, with graying hair and vivid blue eyes, dressed as always in blue jeans and work boots. His partner Joe--Jon couldn't remember his last name at the moment--stood silent, blinking.

He sighed. "Sorry, guys. Welcome."

"I thought being promoted was supposed to be a joyous occasion. Of course, I wouldn't know." Phil shrugged.

"Long story. I'll tell you after a few drinks. Come on in."

"Thank God they left early. Elden Lewis is such an asshole," Jon said some time later. The party was in full swing, and to get away for a moment from the clamor he had slipped out to stand by the pool. Ward was already there, his long frame draped in one of the chaise longues, an empty glass on the metal table next to him. A slight breeze stirred the tropical plants in the back yard.

"Raising the issue of my lifestyle, as he calls it, right at the tenure meeting when no one on the committee even mentioned it. Kevin's right. He was trying to sabotage me."

"Relax, Jon," Ward said. "Who had the last laugh? He had to come over tonight and pretend to be happy you were promoted. Seems to me you came out on top. Then again, you always did like to be on top," he added, sticking his tongue out at Jon in a playful gesture.

Jon grinned. "Considering how often we've locked horns over the years, I'm surprised he supported me even as much as he did."

"Faculty politics, aren't they lovely," Ward said. He stretched and yawned. Since moving to the Bay area he had made do with part-time and visiting teaching positions, which left him ample time, apparently, to work on his body. When Jon and Kevin had met him at the Austin airport the previous afternoon they had been stunned by the brawny muscleman who had come striding through the security gate, smiling with dazzling white teeth from a model's face.

Jon squeezed Ward's knee. "It's good to have you back. How's the language conference going?"

Ward shrugged. "It's okay so far. The bars here aren't like they are back home, of course."

Jon laughed. "Aha, the truth comes out. Well, I'm honored that you stayed for this dull party tonight."

"You know I wouldn't have missed it. I'm really happy for you. A Professor of English living openly with his same-sex partner. Who woulda thunk it at stuffy Steelman."

Jon grinned. "Elden Lewis said more or less the same thing. I don't think he meant it quite the same way."

"It's nice to see Kevin again too. Though I'm not sure he thinks so."

Jon frowned. "He has been kind of standoffish. Maybe it's the candidacy exams coming up in his Psychology program. He's been obsessing about them lately."

Ward shrugged. "You and I have a history. He's a little bit jealous, maybe."

"He needs to stop it."

"Don't be too hard on him, Jon." Ward stood up. He smiled. "Maybe we should get back inside before we give him ammunition."

"There you all are," Kevin said, spotting them as they re-entered the house. "Just in time for the toast."

"Toast?"

"Phil Ramsey wants to toast you and me." Kevin put plastic cups of champagne in their hands. He avoided looking Ward in the eye.

"Oh Christ," Jon said. "I'm really not good at this shit."

"Come on, Professor," Ward said, clapping him on the shoulder, "It's your night. Go and greet your public. Right, Kevin?"

"Right," Kevin said. He took Jon's hand and pulled him ahead of Ward into the living room. Most of the guests were gathered there, holding glasses. They broke into applause. After a minute Philip held his hands up for silence.

"Before we hear from our man of the evening, I would like to propose a toast." He raised his glass in Jon's direction. "To our new Professor of English, and long may he continue in his heroic, though ultimately futile, role as Head Grade Deflator of Steelman College. To Jon!"

"To Jon!" They drank amid laughter and more applause.

Jon raised his hand. "Thanks for your kind words, Phil. They're really generous, when you consider that Fine Arts gives an A to anyone who can hold a paintbrush. Or these days, draw a stick figure with a mouse."

Raucous laughter erupted, mixed with mock booing. Philip Ramsey grinned, not offended. Jon waited until the hubbub died down, then spoke again. "In all seriousness, everyone, I don't mind admitting that this was a nerve-racking semester. I wasn't sure I'd be promoted. Your caring and good wishes meant a lot. Thank you very much."

"To us," someone said.

Jon smiled and raised his glass. He draped his other arm around Kevin's shoulder. He still felt daring when he did this in public, even though everyone present knew their relationship. "Some people might say that Kevin was the reason why there was a question about my promotion. They're wrong. It's his love and support since the day we met--and for anyone who doesn't know, it was the night after he graduated, so I did NOT seduce a Steelman student." There was a definite edge to the laughter this time. "It's his love and support that have kept me going, inspired me for almost eight years now. It's his sense of critical thinking, developed at Steelman by myself and others..." he poked Kevin playfully, "that's kept me from making even more mistakes than I have." He faced his friends and colleagues. "When you drink to me, you drink to Kevin Kuehlwasser."

"To Jon and Kevin," a voice said, and the toast echoed throughout the room. "To Jon and Kevin."

Jon turned to Kevin and embraced him as applause and cheers surrounded them. Under cover of the noise he whispered in his partner's ear, "I love you."

Kevin said nothing. An unexpected lump rose in his throat. Jon seldom verbalized his feelings about him, and never in public until now.

At that moment he caught Ward's eye. Their friend from California was standing, applauding with the others. The expression on his face, though, was not meant for Jon or anyone else except him. Kevin stiffened in Jon's embrace. He shook his head once.

"Kevin," Ward had said the previous afternoon, grasping his arm in the hallway a few minutes after his arrival. Jon was in the kitchen, out of earshot. "It's damn good to see you. How are you?"

He had shaken off Ward's hand. "This is your room here. Bathroom's right off of it."

Ward stared, then shook his head and chuckled. "Give me some credit, will you? I wouldn't come on to you in my old friend's house. I'm not a total sleazebag."

"He was more than just your friend. And he's my partner now."

"You never have told him about us, have you?"

Ward's bag was on the floor nearby. Kevin picked it up and opened the door to the guest apartment. "All that's in the past. Let's leave it that way, okay?"

The mischievous look in Ward's eyes further irritated him. "Have it your way." Suddenly Ward's hands were on his face and his lips were on his. Before he could struggle or protest he was released. Ward grinned.

"You deserved that. Now if you'll excuse me..." He took the bag from Kevin's hand, brushed past him into the apartment and shut the door, leaving him standing in the hall, mouth open.

Slowly he turned away and headed toward the kitchen. Jon was there, washing dishes from lunch. Kevin headed for the coffee maker, which held some leftover breakfast brew. He poured himself a cup and put it in the microwave to reheat.

"Ward settling in okay?"

"Guess so." The timer rang and he took the steaming cup out.

"You're sure you're okay with having him here."

"Jon, we've been through this already. I don't mind." He sat at the table and took a sip. It tasted awful.

"Well, I have to admit I'm enjoying seeing him again," Jon said, smiling. "He hasn't exactly gotten uglier."

"Nope."

Jon grasped Kevin's shoulder, "I'll always be grateful to him for bringing us back together."

Kevin said nothing. Jon looked puzzled. "He told you to go back to Texas when you met him in California, right?"

"It's all such a long time ago."

His partner patted him. "Anyhow, you came back. And the rest is history."

"Seems that long ago to you, huh?"

Jon clicked his tongue. "No. Cut me some slack, Kevin. What's gotten into you?"

He sighed. "Sorry. Just antsy about the candidacy exams."

Jon laughed. "My Lord, they're months off. Take it easy. Where's that laid back dude I invited over for dinner one fateful graduation night?"

Kevin turned away and picked up his coffee cup again. Those happy days seemed eons ago. When had this part of him that he didn't share with Jon grown to such a size?

He had thought his feelings for Ward were a thing of the past. Ward hadn't been in the house five minutes before showing him otherwise.

Sitting in the kitchen with his partner next to him, Kevin had never felt so alone.

As the laughter and clapping from the guests subsided, Jon let go of Kevin. He was a little hurt. He knew he didn't tell Kevin often enough how much he meant to him. Was he being a selfish jerk to want a little gratitude? His partner had already turned away and started picking up empty glasses and other litter.

The toast seemed to be a signal to many of the guests that the party was ending. Jon was soon engrossed in saying thanks, shaking hands, accepting and returning embraces.

"Congratulations again, Professor," Phil Ramsey said, wrapping him in a bear hug.

"Thanks, Phil. You'll get your turn one of these days."

Philip made a dismissive noise. "Well, maybe. Say, your visitor? Ward, is that his name? Joe and I think he's hot." He turned to his partner, who allowed himself a small smile and nod.

"He taught here years ago. He was my boyfriend, before Kevin, actually."

"Really? I thought he and Kevin used to be an item. Don't know where I got that idea. Well, thanks again."

Jon heard the phone ringing and said a hasty goodbye. When he got to the kitchen the Caller ID display showed an unfamiliar number and area code.

"Dr. Evans?"

"Yes." He couldn't immediately place the voice.

"This is David. David Mulroy."

"David! How are you?" At once Jon was alert.

"Okay. Dr. Evans, I have some news about Dad."

"How is he?"

Long ago, when Matthew Mulroy, married and with two young children, lived in Austin, he had sought out Jon online. Though their affair had been brief, they had never lost touch. When Matt's son David had reached college age he had enrolled at Steelman, where Jon was teaching. Matt's return to Austin on a visit to his son had rekindled their friendship and passion. Even so, he had seldom seen Matt since that time almost eight years ago. Matt had returned to Steelman only for David's graduation, and he had met Kevin only that once.

"Well, not good." A chill crept through Jon's body. "The latest drugs they've tried aren't working. Dr. Evans, Dad's not doing well at all."

"David, just how bad is he?"

Silence, then David said, "He's been asking about you. He wants to see you before... before..."

"David. Are you calling from San Francisco?" Having achieved success with his own software company, Matt had sold the business, moved to the Bay area, and come out all the way as a gay man. This had strained relations with what remained of his family, his children in particular. Jon knew that Matt's daughter had cut all ties with him. David was the one who had tried to keep the lines of communication open.

"No. I can't take off from work unless he gets really bad. He's getting good care at home. Dr. Evans, I think you should go see him. Soon."

Jon drew a deep breath and closed his eyes. "It's good of you to call, David. I'll go right away. Fortunately, we're on spring break."

He talked to David for a few more minutes, then said goodbye and headed down the hallway toward the study, where Kevin found him sometime later, hunched over his computer.

"But Jon," Kevin said when he told him the news, "Do you have to go right now?"

"Kevin, he's dying. It may be my last chance."

"Did David really say that?"

"He didn't have to."

Kevin said nothing.

"It's settled," Jon said, his jaw tightening. "I'll be back in a week, before the end of break."

"Where are you going?" Ward asked, poking his head in the door. "Everyone's gone. What's up?"

"Jon's going to see his ex in San Francisco."

"There's more to it than that." Jon explained the situation to Ward.

"Sorry about your friend. So you're leaving soon?"

"Tomorrow. I'll be back the next Saturday."

"Well, that's too bad, Jon. I'm leaving that day."

"There'll be other times for us. There won't be for Matt." He looked at them. "You and Kevin will have a chance to catch up."

Ward shrugged. "Guess we will. Though we'll probably both be pretty busy."

"We will," Kevin said. He turned and left the study. Jon turned to Ward to apologize, but Ward was looking at the empty doorway. Later Jon would remember the slight smile on his face.

TWO: SATURDAY EVENING, SAN FRANCISCO

Jon Evans stepped off the plane and into the crowd hurrying down the corridors of the San Francisco International terminal, exhausted and relieved that the journey was almost over. He had been lucky to obtain a seat he could afford. Now all that remained was to pick up his luggage and ride to Matt's house in the city, with his volunteer buddy from the Project.

Matt's voice had been excited when Jon had called the night before. "Jon, I can't believe you'd come all this way on such short notice. I'm so happy."

"I want to see you, Matt. I've been thinking about it for a while." He had not mentioned David's phone call.

"I'll get Boyd to pick you up at the airport."

"Boyd?"

"Boyd Wilkerson. He's my buddy from the Project. He's helped me out for almost a year now. I'm sure he'd be glad to come get you."

"Well, if it's not too much trouble." Emotion he could not quite identify rose in Jon. Why shouldn't Matt have a support system in place? Still, the thought of Matt depending on the charity of strangers disturbed him.

"It'll be fine. What time are you getting to the airport?"

At the baggage carrel Jon found his luggage. He turned, uncertain of what to do next. Some distance away he saw a man leaning against a large metal column, looking at him. He walked forward, raising his eyebrows, but the man gave no sign of recognition or welcome, though his steady gaze did not waver. Embarrassed, Jon almost turned away but decided at least to say something. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth.

"Mr. Wilkerson?"

The man nodded. His smile did not extend to his brown eyes, which remained level. His jeans set off his long legs and narrow hips. Boyd's reddish hair was clipped very short, one ear pierced with a gold ring. His mouth was framed by a neatly trimmed goatee. His arms were crossed in front of him, biceps bulging from the short sleeves of his black T-shirt. Jon caught himself wondering what Boyd's chest looked like under the tightly stretched fabric.

"I'm Jon Evans. Thanks for coming to get me."

"No problem." Boyd took one of Jon's bags and began walking.

"How's Matt?" Jon asked, as they wandered among the rows of cars in the parking garage toward Matt's vehicle, which Boyd had borrowed. He had hardly said a word so far and Jon felt compelled to make conversation.

"I'm not a doctor. Maybe you'd better wait and ask him."

Jon gave up. He sensed something more behind Boyd's stiffness than the awkwardness of new acquaintance. What had he done to offend him?

Despite his discomfort with Matt's buddy he enjoyed the ride to town. It was years since Jon had been to the Bay area and he had forgotten the intricacies of traveling in the city.

Boyd took them up and down the steep hillsides, past the downtown, toward Golden Gate Park. The streets took on a more residential look. At last they slowed down in front of one of a row of neat, white townhouses in the north part of the city. "It's this one," Boyd said.

He picked up a remote control and pressed a button as he turned the car. A door rose in front of them and they drove into a cramped carport.

"Not much space, is there?" Jon said.

"For San Francisco, this is gigantic. That's why the houses here cost a million." Boyd killed the engine and they got out of the car. Jon opened the rear door and retrieved his luggage. Boyd was already at the door that led into the house, looking back as Jon struggled forward with his bags, trying not to bump into objects hanging on the walls of the garage.


The River Runs Dry Ch. 01



They stepped through a small kitchen. Dim light filtered through a window above the sink, which looked out at the wall of the house next door. A wooden table filled much of the floor space. Cookware and appliances were arrayed on the countertop.

From the next room a voice called, "Boyd? Jon? Is that you?"

Jon's heart gave a leap and he hurried forward, wishing Boyd would walk faster. They entered the living room at the front of the house. A picture window framed by curtains looked out onto the street. The man sitting on the couch in front of it turned toward them and smiled. "You're here."

Jon had braced himself for this moment, not knowing how he would react to the sight of Matt. Now that he finally saw him his head felt light, and he had to fight not to let his bags, one in each hand, drop with a thud to the floor. His knees shook as he bent to put them down.

He was thin, so thin. The skin on his face was stretched tight across his cheekbones, deep hollows underneath. His chin and neck were crisscrossed by deep lines barely covered by a scraggly growth of beard. The hair on his head was an indeterminate color, sparse and lifeless. Matthew Mulroy's plain white shirt and gray trousers hung on his body as he rose to his feet and extended his arms. "Jon," he said.

His eyes hadn't changed, though Matt's weight loss had caused them to sink deep into their sockets. Nevertheless, they were the same brilliant blue that Jon remembered. The smile was the same as well.

Jon moved forward and embraced him, not squeezing hard, fearing he might hurt him. He was surprised at the strength of the arms that encircled his body.

"Thank god," Matthew said. "Welcome."

Jon looked out the window, blinking back tears. "Matt."

"He's going to be in the guest room upstairs, right?" Boyd said. "Have you taken your second dose of Crixivan today, Matt?"

Matt released Jon and wiped his eyes. "Yeah, damned if I know why." He smiled at Jon. "Boyd's my buddy, nurse and sadistic master, all rolled into one."

"We've met."

"I'll take his bags upstairs."

Jon turned, surprised. "Thanks a lot," he said, but Boyd had already left the room. In a moment they heard his heavy footfalls on the steps.

"I use the chairlift," Matt said. "Those stairs are too much for me now."

Jon took his face in both his hands and looked at him, not speaking. Matt's eyes filled again. "I've changed a lot, I know."

Jon shook his head. "You're the same old Matt to me."

Matt grasped his wrists. "Jon, if only I were. You don't know how much I hoped you would come. I know David must have called you. There's not much time."

Jon took him into his arms again. "I'm here now," he said, giving his voice a firmness he did not feel inside. "And we have all the time in the world."

THREE: MONDAY NIGHT, TEXAS

It was almost midnight when Kevin returned home. He had stayed at the University library in Austin until closing time, then continued studying at a nearby coffeehouse, sipping a latte while he typed on his laptop. He could have done the work at home but he was afraid Ward might be there.

He had driven Jon to the airport Saturday afternoon, a stiff and uncomfortable ride for both of them. Afterward he had come home to find Ward sitting in the living room, holding a can of Diet Coke.

He had spoken without ceremony. "Let's get one thing straight. Nothing's going to be different because Jon is gone."

Ward nodded. "Understood."

He hadn't expected it to be so easy. "I'm not, you know, thinking we'll eat together or anything. I mean we don't even cook that often, Jon and me."

"I wasn't planning on being your kept boy, Doctor K."

Ward had got up then and left. Kevin had stood looking after him, baffled and annoyed.

He pulled into the driveway and got out of his car. Ward's rented vehicle and another that he didn't recognize were parked on the street nearby, but the house was dark and silent. He unlocked the door and stepped in, calling out, "Ward?" No answer. Maybe he had gone for a walk, which was just as well. Kevin planned to be in bed by the time he got back.

Just then he stiffened. A sound had come from the back yard. Kevin moved toward the back of the house, turning on no lights and being careful not to make any noise. He entered the kitchen. Through an open window above the sink he could make out splashing sounds and low voices. Whoever it was, was out by the pool. Curious now rather than apprehensive, he moved to the window and looked out.

The sconces on the back wall of the house were on, throwing a dim light on the pool deck and illuminating the boards of the privacy fence that circled the yard. Two men were in the pool, swimming and floating at a languid pace. So Ward was here, after all, and with a visitor. Kevin watched them, fascinated.

Both men were naked, their clothes thrown over two pool chairs. After a few moments Ward swam to the shallow end and stood, water cascading off his perfect, symmetrical body, his hair slicked down flat against his head. Kevin could just make out his flaccid organ floating lazily below the surface of the water, and drew in his breath. Ward looked in his direction and he stepped back from the window.

"What's the matter?" his companion asked.

"Nothing, I guess," he heard Ward reply. "I thought I heard something."

"Doesn't look like anyone's here. You're sure he won't be back?"

Even at a distance Kevin caught the bite in Ward's chuckle. "He's been doing his level best to avoid me. I think we're safe."

A soft laugh. "Good. I wouldn't want anyone interrupting us. Skinny dipping is fun. Especially with you."

Conversation ceased. Curious, Kevin dared to look out again. Ward and his unknown companion were now both standing in the shallow water, locked in an embrace, kissing passionately. The other man was not as muscular as Ward but attractive enough. In the semidarkness Kevin could not make out much more.

The unknown man broke away, grasped the handles on the chrome ladder at the end of the pool and began to climb out. He looked back at Ward and extended his hand. Ward grasped it and followed him. The stranger's head caught the light, and Kevin could see that he was older than Ward, with close-cropped graying hair and a stocky build.

Standing on the deck, they picked up towels and began to dry each other's bodies, kissing often. Sighs and clicking sounds of moist flesh contacting flesh reached Kevin's ear. Both men's cocks were hard, standing stiff out from their bodies.

After a while the towels slipped to the deck. Despite his outrage at what Ward was doing in their house Kevin could not tear himself away, or make any sound to stop them. His own cock pressed hard and painful against the front of his pants.

Ward's friend reclined into one of the deck chairs and extended his arms in invitation. Ward lay on top of him, the muscles in his back and buttocks working in the dim light as he continued his lovemaking. He bent and took one of the man's nipples into his mouth, provoking a loud groan. Kevin saw Ward raise a finger to his lips in silent warning.

"Sorry," his companion whispered.

Ward slid down along the chair until he was sitting at its edge. He bent and took the other man's stiff cock into his mouth. The man threw his head back, his eyes closed. He spread his legs to give Ward maximum access. Ward's head bobbed up and down as he sucked cock with abandon. He reached up with his arms and grasped his partner's calves, raising his legs and ass into the air. His strong hands pushed on the other man's thighs as he descended beneath his balls, clambering off the chair and kneeling on the hard concrete of the deck. Kevin heard the man on the bottom moan softly as Ward ate his ass.

"Fuck me, man."

Ward rose, picked something up off a nearby table and returned to the chair. The other man held his own legs this time as Ward knelt before him. From his vantage point in the kitchen Kevin could see the shadow of Ward's cock, straight and hard. Ward's hands fumbled with his partner's body and his own before he mounted the chair again. He grasped his cock and rose into position above the other man's recumbent form. One movement of his hips and the other man's head fell back, his mouth opening in a gasp.

Ward began to thrust into him, his dimpled buttocks clenching and unclenching with each motion. Kevin watched him fuck, and found himself remembering back years, to the time he and Ward had been together. Longing rose in him. He stopped fighting it and let desire course through his body.

He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of sex, sighs and stifled moans of pleasure. He opened them again to look upon the writhing, thrusting male bodies, the one taking the other beneath with irresistible power and command.

Soon the pace of Ward's thrusts increased. Kevin saw the hand of the man bent double underneath him moving in rapid strokes on his stomach. He heard a gasping "Shit, I'm going to cum!" between short cries that grew louder despite the man's attempts to keep quiet.

"Do it man, cum for me. Yeah. Yeah," Ward hissed as he slammed his partner's body with such force that Kevin thought the chair might collapse. A triumphant "Fuck yeah!" followed by harsh gasps came from the other man, and Kevin knew that his cock was spurting hot fluid between their frantic bodies. Strangled grunts came from Ward as he reached his own orgasm. He arched his back and raised his face in a gesture of triumph, then slumped with his full weight onto his partner.

Kevin closed his eyes and bowed his head, wanting to cover his ears, unable to stop listening. The gasps and moans outside slowly subsided. There was a click as lips met in a wet kiss, then a soft laugh.

"You okay?" Ward asked.

"Christ yeah. That was fantastic." A pause, then, "Worth every penny."

"I aim to please."

"I was damn lucky to run into you online tonight. Too bad you're just visiting."

"I'll be back, man. Or send an e-mail if you're ever going to be in the Bay area."

"Sure will. Listen, is there somewhere I can get cleaned up?"

The two men rose and retrieved their clothing, then began to walk slowly toward the house. Amazed at the dialogue he had just overheard, Kevin barely moved away in time. He shut the door to his and Jon's bedroom just as they entered the kitchen.

FOUR: TUESDAY, TEXAS

Kevin awoke the next morning with one thought in his mind. He had to confront Ward. As soon as he dressed he headed to the front door, looking out the window to make sure he hadn't left. Ward's car was at the curb, though the other one was gone. Satisfied, Kevin went to the kitchen to make coffee.

"Smells good. Can I have some?" Kevin turned to see Ward walking into the kitchen, yawning and stretching. He was dressed in a muscle shirt and shorts that bared most of his thighs.

"Sure." Kevin poured him a cup.

"Going to go for a run before I go down to UT." Ward took a sip of coffee. "You must have gotten in late last night. I didn't see you."

Kevin turned toward the sink. He hated himself for being so nervous. "Not that late. I... saw the cars."

Ward chuckled. "Well, I might as well confess, I, um, was entertaining a guest."

"I know." Kevin took a deep breath and turned to face him. "I saw you."

Ward's cup thumped against the kitchen table. His smile stiffened. "You saw us? What do you mean?"

"By the pool."

He was still smiling, but his eyes flashed. "You little shit. I thought I heard someone. Enjoy the show?"

Kevin's face was burning. With an effort he replaced his embarrassment with anger. "That guy sure did. Worth every penny, he said."

"Jesus. How long were you spying on us?"

"Long enough." He felt himself becoming aroused at the memory of the previous night and raced on. "Long enough to figure out you're a cheap escort."

Ward's laugh boomed. "Where do you get this Bette Davis stuff? Honey, I ain't cheap. I'm expensive." He stood and spread his arms, holding his hands out in an awkward gesture of apology. "I admit I never should have brought that guy here. I'm sorry." His face darkened. "But I'm not sorry about what I do. So you can save the self-righteous bullshit."

He walked toward Kevin, who found himself stepping back until he felt the counter behind him block his escape. Ward stopped in front of him, his strong, square-jawed face inches from his own.

"I ought to beat the shit out of you." His massive arms encircled Kevin's body, squeezing the breath out of him. His mouth pressed against Kevin's, hard and urgent. After a moment of fierce struggle Kevin let Ward's tongue part his lips and dart inside. Suddenly he was kissing Ward back, their mouths tangling, teeth clashing. They parted and Kevin slumped against Ward's chest. He squeezed his eyes shut as sudden tears threatened him.

"This isn't easy for me either."

Kevin looked up. Anger and mockery were gone from Ward's face. He drew in his breath at the tenderness that was revealed. He made a last effort. "I love Jon."

"Me too. Only I love you more."

Kevin pressed his forehead against Ward's hard chest. He felt the heat rise from the body next to him, smelled the clean scent of freshly washed skin. Some small part of him watched in distant despair as his resistance dissolved.

"I love you, Ward."

"I knew it," Ward said. "You've been such a bastard to me, but I knew it."

"Damn it. Why is it so easy to say it to you, and so hard to say it to Jon?"

Ward's laugh was soft this time. "You're asking the wrong person."

In his state of abject surrender Kevin was ready for Ward to take his body right then and there, completing the betrayal of his partner and their friend. Instead, Ward's arms tightened around him again. They rocked slowly back and forth, the light of the morning brightening around them.

FIVE: TUESDAY, SAN FRANCISCO

Jon let himself in the front door of the house with the key Matt had given him. He felt a pang of anxiety at the thought of encountering Boyd, then shrugged it off. Matt was glad he was here, and that was all that mattered.

There was no one downstairs. The dishwasher was running in the kitchen. He climbed the stairs and knocked softly on Matt's door, in case he was asleep.

"Come in," a voice called.

Jon opened the door and walked in. Matt was sitting in a chair, fully dressed. He smiled.

"Come sit, Jon. How was your day?"

"Good," Jon replied. "Went across the bay to Berkeley, poked about a bit. Tried to call a friend on the faculty, but couldn't get a hold of him. Boyd's not here?"

Matt nodded. "He's meeting some friends for dinner tonight. He said he'd stop back later in the evening, though. Called a few minutes ago to make sure I'd taken my meds."

"He's very devoted to you, isn't he?"

Matt nodded. "I don't know what I would do without him. A nurse comes by once in a while, but there's lot of times I need someone for little things."

"He doesn't like me," Jon said.

Matt shifted in his chair, looking out the window. "I know he's been a bit distant. Boyd's very protective of his clients."

"I'm just a friend, visiting. I'll be gone in a week. He doesn't need to feel so threatened."

Matt turned and looked at him then, his eyes luminous. "You'll never be 'just a friend' to me, Jon. Boyd knows that. Give him time."

Jon sighed. "Okay. Maybe I'm jealous because you've got yourself such a hunky boyfriend."

Matt laughed. "The three of us should do something together. Maybe go out to dinner later this week." They fell silent again. Matt stirred and scratched his head. "I need to take a shower."

"I'll leave you alone then," Jon said, getting up.

"Don't go."

He stopped, puzzled.

"Actually, Jon, I need help to do it. Can you--?"

Jon felt nervous. "Maybe you should wait for Boyd."

Matt shook his head. "It's nothing hard, Jon. I just need some physical support, in case I get weak or slip." He got up from his chair and moved toward the bathroom.

In the bathroom Jon helped Matt remove his clothes. Matt's skin was rough and dry, every rib and vertebra standing out from his emaciated body. He stepped into the tub, grasping the rail that had been installed on the wall. A plastic chair was set inside. Jon grasped Matt's arm as he slowly lowered himself onto it. He found himself wanting to look at Matt's nakedness and tried to resist the temptation.

Jon grasped the hand shower and turned on the tap. He waited until the water got warm, then extended it toward Matt.

"Well, I guess I can wait outside until you're done."

Matt looked up at him. "Jon?"

"What?"

"I'm feeling kind of weak tonight. Could you stay?"

"And watch you? Sure."

Matt hesitated. "Sometimes, Boyd gets in the tub and helps me wash. Could you do that?"

Jon looked at him, startled. His heart beat faster. "Are you sure it's all right?"

"I want you to. Please, Jon."

"Okay." Jon turned the tap off, stood and undressed, all the while aware of Matt's unwavering gaze on him. When he was naked, he stepped into the tub. In the confined space he could feel the heat from Matt's body, hear his breathing. An involuntary tremor passed through him.

"You look great."

"Thanks."

He took the hand shower and turned it on again, holding the spray away from Matt's body until he had adjusted the temperature, then gently wet his skin. He saw a bar of soap sitting on the edge of the tub and bent toward it. It slid out of his wet hand and under Matt's chair. Muttering a curse, Jon bent to retrieve it.

"Take your time," Matt said.

Kneeling, Jon searched the floor of the tub, trying not to look at Matt's crotch only a few inches away from his face. "I don't want you to get chilled."

"It's okay, Jon. I'm fine. This is nice."

He found the bar of soap and lathered his friend's body, being careful not to apply too much pressure. Matt sat quiet in his plastic chair. Jon avoided his gaze, afraid of what might happen if their eyes met again. After a few minutes he realized his breath was coming fast and shallow. He could feel his heart thudding in his chest. Blood was rushing to his face, his ears, and to his embarrassed excitement, his cock. There was no way Matt didn't see his arousal. Why wasn't he saying anything?

He picked up the hand shower and turned the water on once more to rinse Matt off, bending down toward him. Jon watched the soapy water run down his friend's chest into his lap. Just as he realized that Matt's cock was swollen too he felt a hand touch his cheek. Jon looked into eyes brimming with emotion. "Matt..."

"Shh. It's okay." Matt's hand moved, caressing his face.

"Jesus, I'm sorry. You sick, and me getting a hardon."

Matt laughed, but when he spoke his voice broke. "I may be sick, Jon, but I'm not dead. I can still turn you on. Do you know how wonderful that is?"

Jon closed his eyes as he kissed Matt's palm. He took Matt's fingers into his mouth, one by one.

Both Matt's hands now cupped his face. He tried to stand. "Help me up, Jon."

Jon dropped the hand shower. He bent and put his arms around Matt's body. It was easy to lift him to his feet, but Matt was feeble and Jon had to hold him firmly to keep him upright. They stood embracing, warm water from the forgotten hand shower swirling at their feet. Jon kissed Matt, a gentle touch on the lips.

Matt's body felt hot next to Jon's. "Matt, you're going to get chilled," he said.

"Not if you keep holding me. Please hold me."

Matt's body began to move against his, his hips thrusting against Jon's crotch. Their cocks made contact and an electric circuit was completed. Desire surged through Jon's body and he began to thrust in turn, rubbing his straining organ against Matt's stomach, forcing himself to go slow so as not to hurt him.

The sound of their breathing echoed off the tiled walls of the bathroom. Jon felt Matt's hand on his butt, a finger in the cleft between his cheeks. It pushed into his hole. The sensation brought him to a quick climax. He threw his head back and groaned as his cock pumped liquid fire into the space between them and onto their heaving stomachs. The scent of sex wafted through the steamy air.




The River Runs Dry Ch. 01



"Yes Jon, cum for me. Sweet. So fucking sweet."

Matt withdrew his finger. Jon's head fell onto the shoulder of the man he was holding as he began to recover. He felt lips shape a kiss on his cheek. He grasped Matt's cock, which had softened. He stroked it, trying to will the erection back, but after a few moments, Matt shook his head.

"It's those damn meds." He drew back and looked into Jon's eyes, a sad smile on his face. "If I'm feeling good and have lots of time, I can get myself off sometimes. But it's not going to happen tonight."

He patted Jon's cheek again. "Never mind. Holding you close like this, seeing you cum is more than enough."

Jon noticed that Matt's legs were trembling. "Getting tired?"

Matt nodded. Jon slowly bent his knees and lowered him back into the plastic chair. He picked up the hand shower and rinsed their bodies. When he was finished, he turned the tap off and hung the nozzle on the wall hook. As he straightened, Matt reached out a hand. Jon jumped as he grasped his still swollen, sensitive cock. Matt shook his head.

"Damn, I wish we could do more with that."

A lump rose in Jon's throat. "So do I. Maybe soon."

Matt smiled. "Maybe."

"You want to get out now?"

Matt shook his head. "Would you mind washing my hair?"

Jon looked at the thinning wisps that remained on Matt's head. "Okay." He picked up the shampoo bottle and squeezed a small amount into his palm, got behind Matt and lathered his head, being careful not to let the suds drip into his eyes. Matt leaned his head back, his eyes closed, as Jon massaged his scalp. Faint noises of contentment rose from his throat. After Jon rinsed him off he leaned down and embraced Matt once more, kissing him on the cheek.

"Thanks, Jon."

At that moment they heard a door slam below them, then footsteps on the stairs. "Oh my god, it's Boyd," Jon said. Before Matt could answer they heard the door to the bedroom open.

"Hello? Matt?" Boyd called.

They heard Boyd cross the bedroom. The next instant they jumped as he knocked on the closed bathroom door. Jon drew away from Matt and turned toward the sound.

"Matt? Are you okay?"

Matt shot one look at Jon before he spoke. "Yes, Boyd, I'm fine. Just getting cleaned up here."

Boyd opened the door. His voice boomed off the tiled walls. "Jesus, man, you can't do that by yourself. Let me--"

He stopped short as he saw Jon and Matt together in the tub. Jon drew in his breath at Boyd's icy stare.

The other man spoke, his voice tight and controlled. "I see you don't need me."

The door slammed and they heard footsteps again, this time rapidly receding.

"Oh Christ," Matt said.

Jon was shaking, his heart pounding. He was not only dismayed but mystified. Boyd had caught them in a pretty obvious situation. Why had he reacted with such anger?

At that moment he realized that Matt was still sitting in the tub, naked and probably freezing. He stepped out of the tub and got a towel. He dried himself off quickly and put on his underwear, then turned to help his friend. He put all thoughts of Boyd from his mind as he helped Matt dry off and get dressed.

When Matt was in his pajamas and lying in bed, Jon sat and took his hand.

"I'm sorry, Jon. I honestly didn't expect him to be back till a lot later."

"Tell me what's going on."

Matt looked at him for a long moment, then nodded.

TO BE CONTINUED 



The River Runs Dry Ch. 02



SIX: WEDNESDAY, SAN FRANCISCO

Jon wasn't sure Boyd would come the next afternoon, but at five-thirty he heard the garage door rattle open. In a moment the back doorbell rang. When he answered it, Boyd's eyes were level, giving him nothing.

"I thought you had a key," Jon said.

Boyd shrugged. "I didn't want to intrude."

Jon drew back to let him in. Boyd stepped into the kitchen.

"Boyd, can we talk a minute?"

"I've got to get dinner ready." He turned his back to Jon and began taking down dishes from the cabinets.

"Please."

Boyd wheeled around. "Look, if a client of mine chooses to mess around with his friend in the shower it's none of my business."

"I didn't know about you and him. He told me last night."

The steely gaze flickered. Jon couldn't resist a dig. "Aren't there rules against that sort of thing?"

"Who are you to judge? Thinking you're so generous to pay Matt a visit when you abandoned him years ago. Coming on to him again, sick as he is. You had your fun. Why don't you get the fuck out?"

Silence fell between them, broken only by their agitated breathing.

After a moment, Jon said, "You're not going to believe anything I say. Talk to him. He's waiting for you."

"I'm going to tell him I quit."

Jon shook his head. "You wouldn't do that."

Boyd glared at him, then turned and left the kitchen.

Jon was sitting at the kitchen table when he came back a while later. He looked up. The younger man resumed his tasks, not looking at Jon.

"Can I help?" Jon asked.

Boyd turned off the tap that he had running and faced him.

"Okay, I was wrong about you coming on to him. Matt told me he was sorry. Said he was the one I should be yelling at. I did, a little." He smiled. Jon was caught off guard by his sudden charm.

"I'm sorry, Boyd."

He shrugged. "Why? You knew him first. I guess that counts for something."

Jon said, "I think I knew right away you and Matt were more than just client and volunteer. I was jealous. I am jealous."

He looked up at Boyd. "Matt and I never got to spend any real time together. I resent you because you've been there for him. You've given him all the care and love I never had the chance to give."

Boyd considered this. "You had Matt when he was healthy and strong. Now here you come again. He idolizes you. Why would he choose me over you?"

"Let's not make him choose. The first time I met Matt I wanted to help him. I still do. We're both on his side, aren't we?"

Boyd nodded. Jon's spirits lifted. He stood and extended his hand. Boyd shook it, then smirked. "What?" Jon said, puzzled.

"Too fucking butch. I'm not used to it." He clasped Jon in a strong embrace. Jon was embarrassed to find himself responding to the feel of Boyd's muscular body surrounding him. He stepped back and their eyes met. "Not bad for an old guy," Boyd said. Jon blushed.

"Who are you calling old?"

"You. I like older men. Particularly ones who keep themselves in shape." Boyd grinned. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I really do have to make dinner. I'll set a place for you too, Professor, if you care to join us."

Jon snorted to cover his feelings. "Thanks. Make sure and put out the salt shaker, okay?"

SEVEN: THURSDAY, TEXAS

"You free for dinner?"

Kevin looked up. Ward was standing in the kitchen in coat and tie. He had interviewed for a full-time teaching position at the conference that had ended that afternoon.

"How did it go? Think you'll get invited to their campus?"

Ward shrugged. "Hotel interviews are so weird. Only thing I could tell is that one of the guys was sending out pretty strong vibes."

"Don't blame him." Ward looked as handsome fully dressed as in more revealing attire, or nothing at all. "Seems like a point in your favor."

"You'd think. No private session in the pool this time, I promise." Ward winked. Kevin blushed. "Anyhow, I'm beat. And hungry. Want to go eat?"

"Sure." There was no point in refusing his invitation, not since he had laid bare his feelings, putting himself completely at Ward's mercy. Ward, however, seemed in no hurry to take advantage of his upper hand.

In the day and a half since that morning in the kitchen nothing more had happened. Kevin was on tenterhooks, alternating between being relieved and wondering why Ward was so distant. Perhaps he was toying with Kevin, getting a little of his own back. Kevin couldn't blame him.

"Let me get this stuff off and we'll go." Ward threw off his jacket, turned and began to unknot his tie as he walked toward his room. Kevin watched the muscles in Ward's back and shoulders ripple underneath the dress shirt he wore.

They sat at the small, friendly local diner, surrounded by noisy conversation. Almost every table and booth in the place was occupied.

Ward was talking about the conference as they ate. Even though Kevin had asked him about it, he found he wasn't listening to a word he was saying. He was looking at Ward's face, watching the sparkle in his dark eyes, the firm line of his jaw. He was tracing the movement of Ward's lips as he spoke, waiting for his teeth to flash when he smiled.

He became aware that Ward had stopped talking.

"Why don't you ask me what you really want to know?"

"And what's that?"

Ward chuckled. "About the life of a hustler, right? Well, a part-time hustler, at any rate."

Kevin hesitated, then conceded. "Why do you do it, Ward?"

"This is going to sound flip, but why do you think? I make less than half of what Jon does teaching. This way I can make ends meet. And make my own hours."

The next question was much more difficult. "Were you doing it, I mean, you know, when..."

Ward understood. "No, not when we were both in California. First time was maybe four, five years ago--some middle-aged guy in a bar, wouldn't leave me alone no matter how much I gave him the brush-off. Finally I got pissed and told him it'd cost him two hundred dollars. He didn't miss a beat, said okay." He shrugged. "I was in a bind, moneywise. He wasn't that ugly." He grinned, but a trace of anxiety was in his eyes. "Are you shocked?"

After a moment, Kevin shook his head.

"I haven't changed. Escorting hasn't turned me into some kind of monster, Kevin."

"Are you going to keep doing it?"

Ward shrugged. "Who knows? I'm already a little on the mature side. I'm going to have to go the daddy route soon. Maybe get into rougher stuff. Don't know if I want to do that. Truth is," he said, "I'd give it up in a second if I found someone I could settle down with."

He gave Kevin a searching look, then a crooked smile. "Don't worry. I know I can't make you leave Jon. I don't even know if I want you to. It would kill him."

"Really?"

Ward's expression turned serious. "Don't joke about that. Jon really does love you." He grinned again. "It would be so much easier for me if he didn't. I could seduce you with a clear conscience. I'm still going to, but I feel guilty about it."

Kevin laughed in spite of himself.

On the way home Jon came up again in their conversation.

"Listen," Ward said, "I don't know how much you're going to tell him about this week, but I'd rather you didn't tell him about the escort part."

"Okay. Though he's more open-minded than you might think."

"He can surprise you, I'll give you that. I told you about our first time, didn't I? In the gym shower, just before Christmas vacation."

Kevin's eyes widened. "No. Really? Guess where our first time was."

"I don't have a clue."

He couldn't resist a smirk as he said, "You're not the first guy who's hosted a private party in that pool. Watch it," he warned as the car swerved and nearly ran off the street.

"I never would have thought."

Kevin was on a roll. "When we get home I'll show you his gold cockring."

Ward guffawed. "Oh my god, I don't believe it."

They stood in Jon and Kevin's bedroom. Kevin opened a drawer, seldom used these days, and drew out the ring. He handed it to Ward, who turned the lustrous yellow metal object over in his hand.

"Beautiful."

"It belonged to Jon's first lover. He died a long time ago."

Ward looked at Kevin, his gaze meaningful. "Want to model it for me?"

Kevin swallowed. The moment had arrived, but still he tried to pull back. "To tell the truth, I've never worn it. I'm scared it'll get stuck, or something."

Ward smiled. "Okay if I try it on?"

"Not here." His scruples seemed faint and foolish.

"Fair enough. Let's go to my room. Or better yet, I'll go get ready. You come in a few minutes."

Kevin nodded. Ward left, ring in hand.

"Come on in," his voice said in response to Kevin's knock. He entered the bedroom and stopped short.

Ward lay on his back on the bed, arms behind his head, naked except for a black leather vest. His pubes were trimmed, so the gold ring was clearly visible, nestled around his cock and balls, causing the veins on his shaft to stand out. The head of his cock was engorged and purple. He grinned.

"How's this?"

Kevin licked his lips. "Nice," he croaked.

Ward extended his arms. "Come on in, the water's fine."

Later, Kevin lay face down on the bed as Ward drove into him. He felt the metal pressing in a steady rhythm against his buttocks, a slow fire building in his gut. Kevin crumpled the sheet with both fists, crying half in lust, half in despair, feeling hot wetness spread beneath him as Ward's thrusts against his prostate brought him to orgasm without touching himself.

EIGHT: FRIDAY, SAN FRANCISCO

"Could you be a little more careful? The pavement's pretty bumpy," Matt said. He was sitting in the wheelchair, Boyd pushing.

"Yeah, yeah." Boyd winked at Jon. "You'd think he was a total invalid. Too much complaining and guess who's going to walk."

Jon winced a bit at the casual ribbing, but Matt seemed to take it in stride. He was feeling good today, good enough that the three of them had decided to go out to Fort Point before having dinner in the Castro. Now that they were here Jon wondered whether it had been a good idea for Matt's health. It had turned out to be a cloudy, cool day and out here, close to the water, the breeze made the air seem even chillier. Jon wore a windbreaker and they had covered Matt with a blanket. Only Boyd seemed almost defiant in his usual T-shirt.

Matt, though, was smiling, enjoying himself. He loved coming to the Point, a historic spot on the bay with spectacular views of the Golden Gate Bridge. The breeze whipped the water into a million whitecaps. If they looked closely enough they could see vehicles, like ants, tirelessly traversing the bridge. Sea birds wheeled in the gray skies above.

They made their way onto the pier that jutted out into the bay. Matt looked up at Jon and grasped his arm, smiling. "I'm so glad we could do this today. The three of us."

"You're sure you're not getting cold, Matt?" Jon asked.

Matt shook his head. "I'm looking forward to dinner, though."

Boyd's eyes met Jon's and sent a silent signal. Jon looked at Matt, sitting with a slight frown on his face, his arms crossed over his chest. "We should go if we're going to make our reservation."

Boyd had chosen Luna Piena, a small place in the Castro. "It's quiet, cozy, and wheelchair-friendly," he had told Jon. As the sunlight faded on the day they sat in the patio area in back, amid plants and trickling fountains, Jon and Boyd sipping drinks, Matt nursing a cup of herbal tea.

As dinner progressed the mood became more and more relaxed. They shared from each other's plates and exclaimed over the quality of the food. "This is so tasty," Matt said, spearing a piece of fish. "Amazing what a difference a little seasoning makes."

Jon shot a glance at Boyd, who was beginning to do a slow burn. Matt laughed at his buddy. "Gotcha."

Boyd looked at Jon and shrugged in mock despair. "I try and look out for him, and this is the thanks I get."

"You do a great job, Boyd," Jon said. Matt took Boyd's arm.

"You know I'm just giving you a hard time." He looked across the table at Jon. "This has been the best week, thanks to you guys."

They became somber at the thought that it was almost over. Jon would be flying back to Texas tomorrow. He raised his glass.

"Well, it's not over yet. I'm going to have another drink. Anyone want to join me?"

Later that evening Jon waited with Matt in his wheelchair at the front door for Boyd, who was putting the car in the garage. The door opened and they met just inside.

Momentary silence fell. Then Boyd said, "Well, I ought to get going."

"I know it's real late, but can you help me get ready for bed?"

"Sure," Boyd said. Jon felt a pang of hurt that Matt had not asked him. As if in response, Matt turned to him at that moment. "You can come up too, if you want."

They got Matt up to his bedroom. Boyd helped him remove his shirt and undershirt. By now Jon felt no shock at seeing his friend's wasted body, only tender protectiveness.

Boyd took Matt's arm and lowered him to the edge of his bed. "Jon, can you get his shoes?"

He bent down at Matt's feet to help as requested. The bed moved. Jon saw that Boyd had sat next to Matt, a plastic tube in one hand.

"I'm going to rub you with this. Your skin's not looking so good."

Matt looked down at Jon and winked, despite his fatigue. "Mm, goody."

Boyd squeezed some lotion into his hand and began to apply it to Matt's shoulders and back, massaging it in. Jon sat on the floor, feeling as if he were intruding, yet unable not to watch. Neither of the others seemed to mind. Matt's eyes were half-closed, his mouth slightly open in peaceful enjoyment. After a while Boyd raised one leg and threw it across the bed behind Matt, moving until he was cradling Matt's body in front of him, their heads almost touching. He took another handful of lotion and began to massage Matt's chest and stomach. Matt's breathing deepened and his head fell back against Boyd's shoulder. His buddy kissed him on the cheek as his hands caressed his nipples, then traveled lower. They began to unbuckle Matt's belt. Jon rose.

"Where are you going?" Matt asked.

"I'll leave you two alone." The thought of Matt and Boyd together put him in a turmoil of desire and jealousy. He didn't know if he could stay in the house while they made love in the next room.

Matt's eyes were steady. "Don't go, Jon."

To his amazement Boyd nodded agreement. "Stay."

At a loss, he smiled and stammered, "I'm... well, I'm not really into watching."

Boyd gave him the level stare that had become familiar. There was no hostility in it now, only a message whose strength and clarity took his breath away. "Who said anything about watching?"

He extended his hand. When Jon got near enough it found the swelling bulge between his legs and rubbed it.

"The first time I saw you in the airport I liked your body," Boyd said. "When I caught you in the shower with Matt I saw you had a cock to match."

His other hand tugged at Jon's wrist. Moving as if in a dream, Jon bent. Their mouths met in a slow kiss, tongues tangling. He felt Matt's breath in his left ear, heard his whisper.

"Make love to me, Jon. Make love to us."

It was a dying man's wish. He obeyed.

NINE: SATURDAY, SAN FRANCISCO 

Jon awoke the next morning alone, in the guest room where he had been staying. Bright sunlight was pouring in through the second-story window, reflecting off the walls. A sour taste was in his mouth. He threw back the covers. Sweat and dried substances clung to the skin and hair on his body.

Sometime in the early hours of the morning Jon had awakened on Matt's bed, Boyd's body next to his, one arm flung across his chest. He could hear Matt's harsh, raspy breathing nearby. He had managed to extricate himself without awakening either of them and padded down the hallway to his own bed, carrying his clothes.

Other memories began to trickle back from the previous night.

Kneeling naked in front of Matt and Boyd, sitting side by side at the edge of the bed, sucking Boyd's cock while grasping Matt's erection in his hand, pumping it.

Lying face down between Matt's outstretched legs, tonguing his scrotum and his shaft, not letting himself put the head of his cock in his mouth. Meanwhile, Boyd's tongue snaked up his hole, his beard scratchy on the tender skin of his butt. A few minutes later he gasped in pain as his hard, thrusting cock impaled him.

Eventually he had gotten his revenge, flipping Boyd on his back, hastily pulling on a condom and entering him while looking at the ridges on his stomach. As he drove into his ass they had kissed again, bathing each other with their hot breath and spit. He had looked up to see Matt lying next to them, watching them fuck with intense concentration, hand moving on his own cock.

Boyd stroked himself until he came, sperm flying across his hard abdomen as he cried out. Jon had cum himself then, screwing his eyes shut and shouting "Fuck!" as he exploded into the rubber inside the tight hole. All the while he had been dimly aware of Matt's weaker cries at his side. As soon as he could he had opened his eyes, and seen the streaks of liquid pooling on pale skin. He looked up into Matt's face. He was still trying to catch his breath, his chest heaving. He had smiled at Jon, tender and sweet.

"Thank you."

Deliberately Jon replayed their lovemaking with no emotion or judgment, letting the stream of vivid, silent images run through his brain as if he were watching a film.

For the moment, he could live with himself. He sat up and walked into the bathroom.

Brushing his teeth and taking a hot shower restored some sense of physical normality. He got dressed, opened the door of his room and looked down the hallway. The door to Matt's room was shut and there was no sign of activity.

A pleasant scent of cooking food and noises from the kitchen drifted up from downstairs. The moment could no longer be postponed. Jon descended the stairs, walked across the living room and entered the kitchen.

Boyd was at the stove, his back to him. He turned and nodded toward the table. "Good morning. Want some coffee?"

"Sounds good, thanks." Jon sat at the small kitchen table and poured himself a cup.

"Want some breakfast?" Boyd asked. "I'm making something to take up to Matt. I doubt he'll be down this morning." He gestured to a tray near him on the counter.

"Will I be able to see him?"

Boyd nodded. "I'm sure he'll want to talk to you, Jon. Just give him some time to get going. Last night took a lot out of him." He smiled with the barest hint of a wink. "Took a lot out of me, too."

Jon said nothing. Boyd picked up the tray. "I'm going up. There's scrambled eggs in the pan. Make yourself some toast if you like. I'll be back."

As he passed by Boyd stopped, his body lightly pressing against Jon's shoulder. "Jon, let's talk, okay?"

A faint spark of the electricity that had passed between them rose in Jon at Boyd's touch. He looked up. Their eyes met. "Sure."

Boyd nodded, and was gone. Jon took a sip of coffee, strong and bitter.

It hadn't been much of a struggle to accede to Matt's request. He couldn't blame it on the drinks he'd had at dinner. He'd had the hots for Boyd from the first time he saw him. Even now Jon was getting hard thinking about the younger man's body and the abandon with which he had used it.

Matt had sensed their attraction. He had played them off against one another, knowing that initial antagonism would only heighten their mutual desire. Unable with his sick and broken body to satisfy his own needs, Matt had induced them to play out his fantasies.

His longtime partner hadn't counted in the equation at all. Matt didn't give a shit about Kevin, or what he might have done to Jon's relationship. But why should he? Why should a dying man be generous toward, or even considerate of, someone he had met once and would never know?




The River Runs Dry Ch. 02



He could have stopped it. He alone was to blame. He could rationalize all he wanted about the understanding he and Kevin had, about the space they had always given each other. He had actually been proud that he and Kevin had never sat and hashed the issue out, had trusted each other to know what the boundaries were.

Whatever they were or had been, he had blown them to hell. All he could do now was assess the damage and determine how much, or if, things could be fixed.

He wished he were more sure they could.

Jon Evans sat staring into space, his eyes dry, the coffee growing cold in his cup. He was still in that position when Boyd returned.

"Jon?" Boyd sat by him. "You haven't eaten anything."

He tried to smile. "I'm not hungry. Sorry you went to all that trouble."

Boyd shook his head. "Doesn't matter."

"How's Matt?"

"Just woke up. He's okay, very tired as you can imagine. He does want to see you before you go."

A lump rose in Jon's throat. "Jesus, I hope I can get through this."

Boyd reached out and grasped his forearm. "You will. You've done so much for him already."

A short, bitter laugh escaped him. "Sure have. Probably wrecked my relationship, for starters."

"Don't do this to yourself."

"Why the hell not? It's true."

"Are you so sure your partner won't understand?"

"That I had a three-way with my ex-lover who's dying of AIDS, and his Shanti Project buddy? Kind of a tall order."

Suddenly he pounded his fist on the table, so that the china rattled. "Bastard. He's always regretted letting me go to Kevin. This is his way of getting his own back."

Boyd withdrew his hand. His eyes were icy and flat, but his voice stayed calm. "No one forced you."

Jon stared at him. His rage found a new target. "Or you. Of course, you've already fucked a client. What does another breach of ethics matter?"

They glared at each other. Then Boyd dropped his eyes. "You're right." He heaved a sigh.

"After Matt--passes on, I'm resigning from the Project, and I'll tell them why. I haven't just broken the rules. I've smashed them into little pieces and stomped on them. You think I don't know that?"

He looked up. "But I don't care. Matt's been totally worth it. And so, Professor, have you." His steady gaze made the blood rise to Jon's face. "C'mon. You didn't exactly have a horrible time last night."

Jon could no longer meet his eyes. "You know I enjoyed it," he said in a low voice.

Boyd took his hand. Jon didn't pull away. "We did it for someone we both love. Maybe your partner will understand that."

Jon tried to smile. "You're more ethical than I thought. You didn't even try and suggest not telling him."

Boyd leaned forward and kissed him. "You're not capable of that. That's a compliment." He stood. "Ready to see Matt now?"

Jon closed his eyes. After a moment he nodded.

"I'll go upstairs and make sure he's ready for you." A pat on his shoulder and Boyd was gone.

At the foot of the stairs a few minutes later he said to Jon, "You might want to get packed after you see him. I'm driving you out to the airport."

"And leaving Matt alone?"

"I've asked another buddy to come and spell me for a few hours. He'll be okay."

Jon nodded, and turned to go up. "Jon?" Boyd touched his arm.

"What?"

"Matt's in a really good place. You don't have to worry about upsetting him."

Jon shook his head. "It's not him I'm worried about."

The stairs seemed twice as long and steep as when he had come down. For long moments he stood outside Matt's room. Finally he knocked, and heard a voice inside say, "Come in."

He didn't know what he had expected to see, but Matt seemed much as usual, sitting up in bed, propped up with pillows. Boyd had helped him put on pajamas and a blue dressing gown. The breakfast tray he had brought up earlier sat by the bed, almost untouched.

Matt's face brightened. "Jon," he said, "I've been waiting for you. Come sit." He gestured to a chair by the bed.

Jon moved forward and took the offered seat. Matt extended a hand and he cradled it in his own. It was warm with the perpetual fever Matt ran these days. They sat in silence for a moment.

"How are you?" Jon asked.

A shrug from Matt. "Oh, okay. Very tired." He smiled. "Last night kind of wore me out."

"It got pretty wild."

"I heard you and Boyd downstairs. You aren't upset with each other, are you?"

"How could I be. He's your lifeline."

Matt shifted his body and frowned, staring off into space. "I didn't plan for any of this to happen, Jon."

Jon said nothing. Matt squeezed his hand. "Boyd is very special to me, yes. But you're the only man I've ever loved."

Jon's vision blurred as his eyes filled with tears.

"I was thinking," Matt said, "How little time we spent together."

Images flashed through Jon's mind--meeting Matt for the first time in the restaurant, shy but eager, anxious to get back to his family. Stolen moments at the lake, in a motel room in Houston. That fevered, sad night in Matt's empty house just before he left town, when he had topped him for the first time. Matt crying in his arms years later, as he told Jon about his wife's illness and death. Someone taking a picture of the three of them, Jon, Matt and his son David, at Steelman's commencement four years ago (where had Kevin been?).

The hollow fear that had chilled him when Matt had called a few months after that, to tell him that he had tested positive.

"They were good times though, weren't they?" he said to Matt, trying to smile.

"The best," Matt said. "And this is the last."

Jon nodded, unable to speak.

"I had to have you close one more time, Jon. Can you understand that?"

Jon cleared his throat and wiped his eyes. "Yes."

"Will Kevin understand, do you think?"

"I don't know."

Matt's eyes were bright with fever as they searched Jon's face. "I hope he will." He released Jon's hand and lay back against the pillows, staring into space. "I've caused you so much trouble."

Jon's voice was steady. "Matthew Mulroy, I have never regretted knowing you for one second."

Matt closed his eyes. "Thank you." Just when Jon thought Matt might have fallen asleep, he opened his eyes, now cloudier. "You need to go soon, don't you?"

Jon nodded. Tears threatened him again.

Matt squeezed his hand once more. "Thank you for coming to see me."

Jon stood, his voice cracking as he tried to keep his composure. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

"Give me a hug." Jon bent and took hold of Matt's body, skin and bones, feeling the frail arms clutching at his back. He buried his face in Matt's neck, stroking his hair, breathing in the scent of shampoo, sweat and the faint, unmistakable odor of illness, cataloging every sensation, willing himself never to forget any detail of this moment. A sob rose in his chest as he finally let go and rose. Both he and Matt tried to smile.

"Safe journey, Jon."

"You too, Matt."

Matt nodded. "God bless."

"Goodbye." Jon barely got the word out. He turned and walked out of Matt's room for the last time, not looking back. Numb, he went to the bathroom to gather up his things. With trembling hands he tried to stuff his shaving bag. A small medicine container slipped from his grasp. The lid was loose and white pills went flying across the tiles.

"Shit!"

On his elbows and knees on the cramped floor, Jon Evans cried.

TO BE CONTINUED...



The River Runs Dry Ch. 03



TEN: SATURDAY, SAN FRANCISCO AND TEXAS

There was little conversation between Boyd and Jon as they sped down the freeway out of the city and toward the airport. At one point Jon felt the other man's hand cover his own. He looked up, but Boyd's eyes were on the road.

After Jon had checked in they paused in front of the security gate.

"Boyd, thank you for everything."

"My pleasure."

Jon looked down at his feet. "I owe you an apology for what I said regarding your relationship with Matt. I've no right to judge you or anyone."

Boyd grasped his shoulder. "Don't sweat it. I said things I hope you'll forget too."

"There's just one more thing I'd like you to do for me."

"Name it."

He forced the tears back. "I never told Matt I loved him. I probably won't get another chance. Would you tell him for me?"

"I'm sure he knows. But I will."

"You'll keep me informed of..." Jon could not finish the sentence.

Boyd nodded. "We'll stay in touch, you can count on it." He stepped forward and hugged Jon, a prolonged, warm embrace. "Take care. Safe journeys."

The plane was not full and Jon was by himself in a window seat, for which he was grateful. Try as he might he could not control his tears when he thought of the week just past and of Matt, fighting his last battle. He read the airline magazine cover to cover, not comprehending a word, then leaned back and closed his eyes, longing for oblivion that would not come.

By the time the plane landed at the Austin-Bergstrom Airport Jon was exhausted. Walking up the jetway with other passengers took all his strength. How would he react when he finally saw Kevin again? Jon found himself simultaneously wanting and dreading the sight of him.

He reached the general exit from the secured area, and saw a familiar head of straight blond hair. Kevin had not seen him yet--he was leaning on the railing, his back turned, engaged in conversation with a companion. Happy recognition clouded as he saw the closeness of the two men's heads, the air of confidence between them. After a moment he recognized the other man as Ward.

Just at that moment Ward caught sight of him. He lifted his hand in a friendly wave. Kevin looked up. Was he imagining things, or was his expression less than welcoming?

Whatever his doubts, the hug from his partner brought Jon's tears rising again. Kevin looked concerned. "You look beat. Are you okay, Jon?"

He shrugged. "Oh, sure. I'm okay. I said goodbye this morning to someone I'll never see again, but I'm okay."

Kevin's face remained grave and sympathetic. "Let's get you home."

Jon saw Ward looking at him, his expression likewise solicitous. "And what are you doing here?" The question came out more sharply than he had intended. "Sorry. I didn't mean that."

"It's okay, Jon. Actually, I'm about to take off." He saw that Ward was holding a carry-on bag. "Back to where you just came from. My plane leaves in a couple of hours."

He stepped forward and put a hand on Jon's shoulder. "I'm sorry we didn't get to visit more, Jon. And I'm sorry about Matt."

Jon nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He watched as Ward shook hands with, then embraced Kevin. The intimacy of the stance he'd seen them in moments before nagged at him. He listened to their parting words but picked up no clue from their ordinary sentences.

"Thanks for everything, Kevin. See you soon?"

"Safe journey, Ward. Take care."

"Bye, Jon." He walked off toward the line of passengers waiting to pass through the checkpoint.

Jon felt Kevin's hand on his arm. "Let's get your bags and go home."

After Matt's small, neat townhouse, packed with the possessions of a lifetime, his own residence seemed cavernous and wasteful. Kevin followed him into their bedroom. As Jon put down the bag he was carrying he felt his partner's arms encircle him from behind.

"I'm glad you're back." He laid his head on Jon's shoulder. "I was thinking we'd go out to dinner. How about Chambord? It's your favorite. We haven't been there in a long time."

"Sure." Instead of calming him, Kevin's affection increased Jon's uneasiness. He knew, though, that if he forced the issue he would be powerless to limit the discussion. Was he prepared to reveal his own inner demons?

He debated the question to himself all through dinner. Kevin appeared not to notice anything amiss and chatted with animation about events that had happened in his absence.

"Did you and Ward patch things up?"

"What?" Kevin blinked.

"I was worried about you two. You didn't seem to be getting along for some reason."

"Oh, that. It was nothing, we're fine now."

He waited for some further explanation but Kevin changed the subject.

Back home he went into the bedroom to unpack his things. Jon had brought an extra tube of toothpaste and other toilet articles on the trip. He decided to put them in the guest bathroom, off the bedroom Ward had vacated that morning.

He took up the used towels off the rack to wash them and opened the medicine cabinet. It was empty save for one object.

On the second shelf from the bottom lay a plain golden ring, much too large to be jewelry. For an instant Jon's mind went blank, then a burning flush spread over his face, ears and neck.

Without conscious thought he picked it up, turned it over and noted the one small notch that identified it. In a daze, he put in his pocket and walked toward the study where he knew Kevin was working.

Kevin looked up from the computer as Jon entered the room. Without speaking he took the cock ring out of his pocket and tossed it onto the desk. It hit with a metallic clang and bounced onto the computer keyboard. The monitor quacked in protest as it landed on several random keys.

He looked at Kevin. His face was pale.

"Where did you find that?"

"What was Ward doing with it?"

Kevin hesitated, then spoke. "I didn't tell you what I found out. Ward's a part-time hustler. That explains his body, and how he can take these trips when he doesn't have a full-time job."

"So what? He forgot his cock ring at home, so you lent him ours to take on his outcalls? Don't bullshit me, Kevin."

"Okay. He and I... had sex. Once."

"Oh Christ." Jon's hand went to his forehead.

Kevin extended a hand as if to appease him. "It just happened. I thought we said it was okay to play once in a while."

"Maybe we did, but Jesus, Kevin! Ward's our friend. And in our house."

"He... wanted to. I couldn't say no."

"You're not an altar boy. You're a grown man. I thought you had some self-control, not to mention respect for us."

Defiance rose in Kevin's eyes. "Respect? Running off to see an old boyfriend just when things were finally good between us. That's respect."

Jon's jaw tightened. "Leave Matt out of this."

"Because he's got AIDS? You've always put him first."

"That's not true."

"You can't even see it. You don't see lots of things that are staring you in the face."

"Like what?"

He saw a momentary flicker in Kevin's face, then his expression hardened once more. "Ward. He didn't come back here to see you, he came to see me."

Jon caught himself, confused. "What do you mean? You guys were never really serious."

Kevin lowered his eyes. "Ward was in love with me in California. He was furious when I left."

His voice became soft and Jon strained to hear his words. "I had feelings for him too."

"Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"I don't know. You wrote me and told me you loved me, and you wanted me to come back. You made me see that Ward wasn't who I wanted to spend my life with. But you can't just turn off feelings, Jon. Even after eight years."

Jon felt as if he might suffocate. He had been deceived all along, not only by the man he had lived with for eight years but another man he had loved, and thought of as a friend.

He began to pace around the study, the word drumming in his head. Deceived.

"Jon, please say something."

He turned and looked into Kevin's anxious face. He was surprised at his ability to keep his voice calm and controlled. "You're right. I did put Matt first this week. So you fucked your old boyfriend? So did I."

His partner's face went white with shock. Somewhere inside Jon heard a small voice warning him not to cross the final line. He ignored it.

"Matt has a buddy from the Shanti Project. You'd like Boyd, he's hot. The three of us had quite a party the night before I left."

Tears welled in Kevin's eyes. Without a word he rushed from the study. A moment later Jon heard a door slam. He had gone into the guest apartment.

His stomach churned as sick despair overwhelmed him. What had he done?

Aware that it was hopeless, he went down the hall and tried the door, then rattled it and pounded on the wood. "Kevin? I'm sorry. Please open the door."

Long after he knew Kevin would not answer he begged and pleaded, then gave up and went to their bedroom. In the dark silence he collapsed onto the bed fully clothed. Some hours later sleep finally overtook him.

ELEVEN: SUNDAY, TEXAS

His first thought when he woke was to find Kevin. The door to the guest bedroom stood open. It was empty. So was the rest of the house. Nothing was missing except Kevin's laptop, which he had been working on in the study.

Jon went through his routines that day in a mindless daze, hoping that his partner would return, afraid to face him, haunted by that stricken face he had seen last night.

He called Kevin's university office number several times. There was no answer and Kevin didn't call back. E-mails he sent to Kevin's university address produced no reply.

He forced himself to eat though he had no appetite, tried and failed to prepare his classes that would resume the next day, tried to watch television but could not sit still. The only activity that relieved him for a while was working out. There was no trace of his partner when he came home from the gym.

He sat in the living room late that evening, having given up trying to do anything, yet knowing he would not sleep if he went to bed. He jumped as the cordless phone on the table by him rang, then grabbed it, filled with desperate hope.

"Jon?" It was not Kevin's voice.

"Who is this?"

"Sorry. This is Rolf. I'm a friend of Kevin's. He asked me to call you."

"Do you know where he is?"

"Yes. He's over here, with Cary and me." Jon recalled who Rolf was. He and his lover were buddies of Kevin from the University. He had met them once, briefly.

"Could I talk to him?"

A pause on the other end. "He doesn't want to talk to you. He's going to stay here awhile. He asked me to come over to your place and pick up some of his things. That's why I'm calling."

His heart sank. Kevin was determined to stay away. Perhaps he was never coming back. He forced the thought from his mind.

"So could I come by?"

With a start Jon realized he was still on the phone. "Yes. Rolf, please--. Never mind. If he won't come to the phone, could you give him a message at least. Tell him I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say."

"Okay." A pause, then Rolf spoke, his tone harder. "Look, Kevin hasn't told us exactly what happened. But judging from the way he is right now, sorry doesn't begin to cover it. I'll be over in half an hour." He cut the connection. Jon sat in the darkening room holding the dead receiver, staring into space.

TWELVE: LATER THAT WEEK, TEXAS

"Hello, Jon."

It was a woman's voice. He looked up, surprised, from his desk. Time was crawling by during his office hours this week. As usual, they had passed with hardly any students wanting to see him. His visitor now was not a student.

"Mary, how nice to see you. Come in."

Mary Lewis hesitated, then accepted his invitation.

"Have a seat."

"I can't stay long. I'm here to discuss business with Elden."

"Sounds kind of formal."

"It is." She lowered herself into a nearby chair. "We're seeing a lawyer tomorrow to draw up a separation agreement."

"What?" Jon wasn't sure he had heard her correctly.

Mary nodded. "I've already moved out of the house." She smiled, her eyes not meeting his. "Probably more than you want to know. I'm sure it's more than Elden wants you to know."

"But, Mary, why--" Jon stopped, embarrassed.

"It's all right. I decided I've put up with his ego long enough. I'm sick of having no friends because of his arrogance. I'm sick of the way he treats people. Like you when you were nice enough to invite us to your promotion party."

"Mary, are you sure? After, what it is it, thirty years?"

"Thirty-two." She nodded. "I'm scared to death. But I'm also excited. Sometimes you've just got to get yourself out of an unbearable situation."

Jon sat silent, wondering whether Kevin was thinking similar thoughts.

Mary rose. "I've got to go. If I miss his office hours he won't see me." She laughed, as if realizing the absurdity of the situation anew.

At Jon's door she paused, then spoke again. "Thank you again for inviting us to your home, Jon. And say hello to that nice young man of yours."

Jon forced himself to smile.

It was well after dark when he began to walk home from campus. He had eaten dinner at the Steelman cafeteria, as he had done most of that week. Coming home to an empty house was something he wanted to postpone as long as he could.

Some distance down the street from the house he stopped in his tracks. Kevin's car was in the driveway. Jon was filled with mingled joy and apprehension. The house itself was dark and silent and he saw no sign of activity. After a moment, he walked forward, determination in his steps.

When he tried the front door it was unlocked. "Kevin?" he called as soon as he was inside. No answer. Jon walked through the house, flipping on light switches.

He opened the kitchen door and looked out at the pool. In the semidarkness he saw a shadowy figure in one of the deck chairs on the near side, back turned.

"Kevin!"

For a moment there was no response, then whoever it was stirred and picked up a glass on the metal table next to the chair. Jon heard the faint clink of ice cubes.

"I came here to pick up some more stuff," Kevin said.

His heart was pounding, but Jon forced himself to sound calm. "How long have you been here?" He walked forward until he was standing by the chair in which Kevin was stretched out. His partner stared at the still water.

"A couple of hours. I haven't made much progress."

Jon concentrated on keeping his voice steady. "Maybe that means you don't want to leave."

Kevin looked up at him. His eyes caught the light. Usually they were a dead giveaway, but Jon found he could not read their expression.

"Why the hell should I stay?"

"I don't know a reason in the world why you should. Except I'll miss you."

"The way you missed me at Matt's?"

Pain stabbed his heart at the thought of the harsh words he had hurled. "I shouldn't have told you that way. I'm sorry."

Kevin turned back toward the pool. "Doesn't matter. None of it matters."

Jon felt desperate. He had to break through this leaden wall Kevin was building around himself. "Kevin, what we have matters."

A mirthless chuckle. "Sure doesn't seem like it."

He knelt by the chair, willing Kevin to look at him. "I've taken you for granted. I've taken us for granted. It's my fault."

Kevin shifted his body and sighed. "Don't take all the blame. I've done my part to screw this up."

"That's not important. What's important is that you chose me, and I chose you. All the feelings I had for you eight years ago are still here."

"Funny way of showing it."

Jon bowed his head. "I know. Give me a chance to do better. Please."

Kevin sighed again. "I came to start moving out of this place. Instead I've been getting drunk and feeling sorry for myself." He took a swig from his glass. "I try and hate you, but I can't."

He felt silent. Jon waited, hardly daring to breathe.

"Okay." As Jon's heart gave a leap of joy, he added, "I'll stay here tonight. If it feels right, I'll stay here tomorrow night. Any time it stops feeling right, I'm out of here. All right?"

The hard edge in his voice chilled him, but Jon tried to smile. "Fair enough."

To his surprise Kevin reached out and grasped his shoulder. "I know I'm being a shit. Why don't you call my bluff? Throw me out?"

Words rose to Jon's lips. Because I love you. Because Matt will soon be dead and I'll be all alone, except for you. He said none of these things. Instead he forced a smile and took Kevin's hand.

"You know I'm not going to do that. Let's go inside."

THIRTEEN: LATE APRIL, TEXAS

When the phone call came it was early evening. The caller ID displayed Matt's number after two rings. Jon picked up the phone in the kitchen, his heart in his throat.

"Jon, it's Boyd."

"He's gone, isn't he?"

"Yes. About four o'clock this morning. It was very peaceful. I'm sorry I didn't call sooner but I knew you'd be teaching today. I didn't want to leave a message."

"How are you holding up?"

Boyd's heavy sigh filled Jon's ear. "I'd like to just sit down and bawl, but there's no time. Matt talked about making his will with me and I know he was going to name David as his executor. That's good. When the other relatives descend, then things will get ugly."

"I'm sorry. I wish I could help."

"Believe me, you don't want to be here. Anyway, you already helped. Matt was so happy you came. He was talking about it the day he passed away."

Jon drew a shaky breath. "Thank you for telling me that."

"There are plans in the works for a memorial here. Not the official family funeral. I'll save that for later, though. Take care of yourself, Jon."

"You too, Boyd."

He put down the phone and stood, looking straight ahead. Kevin had come into the kitchen and heard the conversation. He touched Jon's shoulder.

"Jon, I'm sorry."

Grief, sharp and hot, began to shoot through the numbness that enveloped him. He shook his head.

"It's for the best." He stood rigid as Kevin embraced him. His fists clenched, his body shook as he fought to maintain control. He repeated, "It's for the best," even as his voice broke and tears began to course down his cheeks.

Kevin stroked his back, uttering soothing sounds, trying to comfort him. But Jon would not put his head on his shoulder.

EPILOGUE: JULY, SAN FRANCISCO

The ride in Boyd's car down the winding road to Fort Point was quiet. Ward sat in the front next to Boyd, who drove. Jon concentrated on looking out the window at the scenery going by.

He and Kevin sat in the back seat, a mahogany box containing Matt's ashes between them. Once they would have held hands. In the months since Jon's return from San Francisco, though, an invisible barrier had kept them apart much of the time. They treated each other like new acquaintances, careful not to tread into still sensitive areas. Dinner conversations were polite and attentive. The same could be said of the few times they had made love.

Right now they were sitting in the same car with the two men who had, intentionally or not, almost destroyed them. He had his doubts about this whole idea. Still, Matt had wanted this--had put it in his will. He had also specifically requested that Kevin be present. Kevin in turn had insisted on inviting Ward. "We can't come all the way out here and not see him." Jon conceded that he was right. So far, things had been all right, but tension lurked beneath the surface of their mundane chat. He and Ward had never talked of what had happened while Jon had been away. He didn't know how much Kevin had told him.

In the driver's seat, Boyd was talking to Ward.

"You wouldn't believe the hassle I had to go through to get permission to do this. Permits from the city and from the park. Endless paperwork. In the eyes of the law what we're doing today is polluting."

"Well, that makes a kind of sense, I guess."




The River Runs Dry Ch. 03



"Actually, the Shanti Project helped a lot with the red tape. Over the years they've had plenty of experience helping people wanting to lay their loved ones to rest," Boyd said, his jaw set in a grim line. "I only hope someone will do the same thing for me when the time comes."

Jon cast a sidelong glance at Kevin, who sat silent, staring straight ahead. He felt a piercing sadness. Only time could heal them, and even then they might never be the same.

They reached the bottom of the descent to the shore beneath the Golden Gate Bridge. At least the weather was cooperating. Summer in San Francisco could be gray and foggy, but today the sun was shining and the waters of the bay sparkled. They parked the car and got out, stretching their stiff limbs. The remnants of the fort that gave the place its name stood grave and silent at the edge of the bay, and the bright span of the bridge soared across the sky beyond.

"It sure is a nice day," Ward said. Jon nodded. He thought of the day he and Boyd had come here with Matt. It had been one of his favorite places in the city. It was at this place that Matt had requested his ashes be scattered.

Dealing with bureaucracy hadn't been the only obstacle to carrying out Matthew Mulroy's wishes. They weren't carrying all of his earthly remains today. Some of his relatives, especially hiss, had been shocked at Matt's instruction that he be cremated, assuming that he would want to be united in death with his deceased wife. Very few people knew the painful circumstances of Matt and Christine's last months together. She had unwittingly learned of his relationships with other men just as she also found out she was dying of cancer.

It had taken many phone calls and protracted negotiations with Matt's family before they had agreed to release a portion of the ashes to Boyd. The rest was now interred with Christine's remains in a cemetery in North Carolina. Matt would be divided in death as he had been in life.

They were meeting Matt's son David and his wife today, the sole relatives at the ceremony. As they found a spot on the winding road and parked Jon saw them getting out of a car some distance away.

They gathered together by the street, a stiff breeze blowing their clothes and tousling their hair. David and his wife smiled, shading their eyes with their hands as they faced into the sun.

"Dr. Evans? This is my wife, Melissa."

"Hello, Melissa. Jon Evans. Please call me Jon, though David won't." He shook her hand. She was a pretty woman, petite and dark-haired. They spent a few moments completing introductions.

David turned to Boyd. "Thank you for taking care of my father."

When he and Kevin had gotten out of the back seat, Jon had handed the box of ashes to Boyd. Now he led the way as the six of them walked toward the concrete pier that jutted into the water, where visitors could walk or fish.

He saw a couple of heads turn as they passed. They made a curious group. Out of respect, he had put on a dark suit, as had David. Melissa was dressed in black. Kevin wore a sport coat and tie.

Boyd, on the other hand, had on black jeans and a tight-fitting black T-shirt. Ward Childers' only concession to mourning was a black leather vest over his T-shirt and jeans. Jon felt irritated at Ward for not looking more formal. On the other hand, he hadn't known Matt, and Jon couldn't blame him if he didn't particularly want to be here.

He took a long look at the two men, Boyd with head almost shaven, his skin fair, his gold earring glinting in the sun; Ward, with his shock of dark hair, his craggy face, his model's body. They were a striking pair-two Castro hunks with their out-of-town friends. Matt would have appreciated this funeral cortege. The thought made him smile and for a moment he felt better.

Boyd stopped about halfway down the pier at the edge of the water.

"Is this far enough?"

They glanced at each other and shrugged.

"Good a place as any, I guess," Jon said.

Boyd put the box down on the concrete. He looked at them and cleared his throat. "I guess I'm sort of in charge. It's weird, considering how long I've been with Shanti, but I've never actually done this before."

He drew a small square of paper from his pocket and unfolded it. "A couple of months ago," Boyd said, "when Matt knew that it wouldn't be much longer, he and I had a talk about how he wanted to be remembered."

Jon thought of his last conversation with Matt, the morning he had left. He felt a pang of irrational jealousy. Why hadn't Matt talked about his wishes with him?

"I'm glad we can all be here to carry out Matt's last wish, and I thank you, Jon and Kevin, also David and Melissa, for coming so far.

"Matt wanted this poem to be read when his ashes were scattered. It's from Walt Whitman."

He cleared his throat and began to read.

"O we can wait no longer, we too take ship, O Soul..."

Boyd Wilkerson's voice continued to recite the exalted verses. Jon looked across the bay. Sky and water blurred together into hazy shades of blue in his vision.

"Sail forth--steer for the deep waters only, Reckless O soul, exploring, I with thee, and thou with me, For we are bound where mariner has not yet dared to go..."

His voice broke. Jon looked at him. Boyd's head was bowed, one hand over his face, the other still clutching the paper. His shoulders were shaking with silent weeping. Next to him, Melissa's face was buried in David's shoulder, his arm around her.

He moved forward and laid a hand on Boyd's arm. "Do you want me to finish it?"

Boyd nodded, unable to speak. Jon took the paper from him and found the place where he had stopped. For a moment he was afraid his voice would not obey him either. With an effort he kept a grip on his emotion and began to read.

"...And we will risk the ship, ourselves and all. O my brave soul! O farther, farther sail! O daring joy, but safe! Are they not all the seas of God? O farther, farther, farther sail!"

When Jon finished they stood silent, the roar of the breeze and the lapping of the waves in their ears, the cries of sea birds in the distance. His head bowed, Jon heard a few muffled sobs around him. Finally, Boyd bent and opened the box, inverting the lid and placing it on the concrete. He dipped a trembling hand inside and drew out a fistful of ashes, already starting to blow away in the breeze. Tears running down his cheeks, he flung them into the wind, watching as they were borne away over the bay.

The rest of them in turn took a handful and tossed ashes over the water, then began again. As Boyd threw for the second time the wind suddenly gusted and blew the dust into his face. He coughed and sputtered, trying to spit the gritty particles out. "Asshole," he said. They broke into ragged laughter.

"That Matt, still giving me a hard time," Boyd said. To Jon's surprise Ward produced a handkerchief from a rear pocket. He gave it to Boyd with a comforting hug.

Jon bent and took his second handful. The box was almost empty. Instead of flinging this one he opened his fingers and let the ashes trail away, forming a long, gray-white plume, a contrail that lost itself in the breeze.

"Goodbye, Matthew. Godspeed," he whispered.

Beside him Boyd picked up the box and looked inside. "Almost gone," he said. He held the box over the water and turned it upside down.

"Rest in peace, friend." Boyd picked up the lid from the pier and closed the box. He turned to the others. "Guess we're done. Thank you all."

They began to walk back. Boyd and Ward strode ahead, Ward's arm over the other man's shoulder. They came to David and Melissa's car first. Good-byes were said. Jon hugged Melissa, then turned to David and did the same.

"I remember," he told him, "When Matt came to visit you at Steelman, how you always hugged him when you said goodbye. I thought that was so sweet."

David's eyes were moist, his expression composed. "He was my dad."

Melissa touched his arm. "Thank you, Dr. Evans."

Jon smiled. "Jon."

They watched the couple drive off, then began walking again. They were still some distance away from Boyd's car when he felt a hand grasp his arm. He turned. Kevin's gray, luminous eyes glistened as he smiled at him. A flood tide of love and sadness rose inside Jon. He faced ahead again and tried to keep walking, but could not.

He struggled to breathe through a throat choked with tears. One escaped and ran down his cheek, then another. Unable to see, Jon turned toward Kevin. He felt strong arms enfold his body as he gave up the struggle and began to weep on his partner's shoulder.

Dimly he heard Kevin say something to the others about catching up. Then Kevin said to him, "Shh. Let it go. It's okay." He clutched at his lover's body like a drowning man, heedless of anyone who might be staring at them.

He did not know how long they remained motionless, embracing in the street. At last he relaxed his grip as the storm that had shaken his body began to dissipate. Jon fumbled in his jacket pocket and found a handkerchief. He was always crying these days. He was a silly old queen, silly and afraid--afraid of losing what was most precious to him.

He looked into Kevin's eyes. "I'm sorry."

Kevin shook his head. "Matt meant a great deal to you. Why shouldn't you cry?"

Jon heaved a sigh. Sobs were still hiccuping from his chest. "It wasn't just Matt I was crying for. It was us."

Something changed in Kevin's face. "Us?"

"Us. What we've become. Strangers."

"We're not strangers. I don't believe that."

Jon looked at the ground. "I'm so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Jon, I'm the one who needs forgiveness."

He could barely get the words out. "I don't want to lose you."

Kevin's chin trembled. He tried to smile. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Thank God." He took Kevin's face in his hands and kissed his forehead. They embraced again. Kevin spoke against Jon's chest.

"Jon, I have a request."

"Name it, it's yours."

"When we get back to Texas I want to have a commitment ceremony. It's about damn time."

Jon looked at him. After a moment, he nodded. "Okay. It will take a little while to organize, though."

"Oh, I know. Invitations, minister, rings, cake, the works. Out-of-town relatives." A bit of Kevin's old wry self flashed in his grin. Jon's heart leaped with joy.

"Let's shoot for fall. Shall we invite those two?" he asked, turning his head toward Boyd's car.

"Hell, yes. Only Ward stays in a hotel this time."

"Agreed. He may be staying with Boyd by then anyway."

Kevin raised his eyebrows. "I thought something was going on with those two. You noticed it too, huh?"

"They sure make a hot pair."

"They do. Let's show them how an old married couple does it." They walked to Boyd's car arm in arm. After all these years, he and Kevin still had so much to learn about each other. But the old love was still in their hearts, and maybe it could even grow with time.

Their two companions were waiting in the front seat.

"You gentlemen all right?" Boyd asked, as Jon and Kevin climbed in the back.

Unexpected laughter welled up in Jon's chest. He saw Ward's and Boyd's grave faces and suppressed it. "Yeah, we'll be fine."

"You guys have been through hell," Ward said. "A lot of it on account of us." In answer to Jon's surprised glance, he said, "When Kevin told me about scattering Matt's ashes and wanting me to come, I called Boyd here. I wanted to make sure it was all right. We ended up going out for coffee. As you might have guessed, we shared a few other things."

He paused, then looked at both Jon and Kevin. "If I haven't said it before, I want to say it now. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too," Boyd said. Silence fell, then Kevin spoke.

"You're not to blame. Jon and I are responsible for everything we did. We've always given each other breathing room. We both just took a little too much. Easy to do with guys like you."

He took Jon's hand. "We have a lot of work to do when we go home. But we're staying together. And you're still our friends. Right, Jon?"

"Right." Jon wondered whether Kevin was going to mention their plans, but he didn't. He decided now wasn't the time. He leaned forward and kissed Boyd on the cheek. He turned to Ward, who looked as if he were about to cry. Jon smiled and did the same to him. He faced the others.

"It's been a long day. What do you say we drive back and drink to Matt's memory?"

"Great idea." Boyd turned the key in the ignition and pulled out onto the winding road that led up the hill and back to the city. Outside, the green fields of the Presidio slipped past.

The peace that had descended on them remained even after the surrounding traffic grew heavy and noisy. As the car crawled toward the MacArthur Tunnel, Kevin rested his head on Jon's shoulder. Jon put his arm around his partner. In the front seat, Boyd reached for Ward's hand. Ward looked at Boyd, then squeezed his hand in response.

They were silent. After a while, Jon and Kevin drifted off to sleep, still leaning on one another.

END