Date: Fri, 20 Aug 2004 07:59:43 -0700 (PDT) From: Dane Bruebeck Subject: Symmetry-14 If stories containing depictions of m/m relationships are offensive to you please exit site. If it is illegal to read such stories or if you are under 18, please exit site. Practice safe sex. My characters have been tested and are monogamous. Thank you. Email comments and criticisms to dowtheory2001@yahoo.com Symmetry-14 Evan's Story Evan woke up with a big, satisfied smile on his face. The night had been awesome and he felt buoyed by the ecstasy of it. What had he been thinking? How had he even thought that the possibility of an alternative reality existed? He had been so blind. Last night had proved to him that his need for Ron had not ended. During the past weeks of separation, Evan knew that his every dream and thought centered on Ron. He kept on telling himself that it was only a matter of time and his unprecedented desire for Ron would end. It was a foolish notion and last night had shown him that if nothing else, his desire for Ron had only increased. He turned over in the messy bed and found the space next to him empty. His face broke into another smile at the thought of Ron cooking up a hearty breakfast in the kitchen. This time it would be possible: he had purchased a skillet the last time he had gone to the supermarket. Feeling extremely lighthearted and cheery, Evan pulled his sated body of the bed and headed to the adjoining room. He reached for his toothbrush, pasted it and brought it to his mouth. The image staring at him in the mirror caused him to stop his actions. What a sight! His torso had patches of cum caked on it, the largest portion stretching from his belly button to the top of his pubes. He touched it tenderly. It was Ron's or perhaps his own, most likely a combination. Their cum. Less than five minutes later he was in his boxers and heading to the kitchen. "Baby! I hope it's almost ready. I think you worked me out too hard last night," Evan shouted lightly as he approached the kitchen. The spectacle before him made him stop dead on his tracks. The kitchen was empty; no Ron, no breakfast. Perhaps, Ron had been forced to run out for some supplies. Yeah, that was it. He walked to the coffee maker and poured in his favorite blend. He needed coffee badly. He turned around and that's when he saw the familiar object lying at the center of the table. It was Ron's key to Evan's apartment. Evan understood immediately what it meant and he felt his hurt break into tiny little pained pieces. It's funny how human emotion can transform so fast. The joy of the morning transformed into anguish in less than a heartbeat. Evan realized that last night had not been a beginning, it had been an end. He sat down and rubbed his temples willing himself to keep breathing. Maybe Ron had just forgotten the keys by mistake, Evan told himself. He knew better though; there was something about the way the leather key- holder lay perfectly aligned with the two keys that suggested that they had been laid down with intent. He noticed the deathly silence around him and he shuddered. This was how mornings would be from now on. Silent, sterile, dead. Mornings with Ron were perfect and lively and warm. No one else could make a common morning a sacred act of love and tenderness like Ron could. How could he give that up? He decided he couldn't. Evan stood in front of Ron's door trying to remain calm. He felt so panicked. He reached up and rang the buzzer and waited. Everything felt so wrong. No answer. He pressed the buzzer and waited again. When no reply was forthcoming, he pulled out his copy of Ron's key and let himself in. "Ron! Ron!" No answer. He headed straight to the bedroom. The first thing that struck him was Ron's writing desk. It was completely bare. 8:45AM and Evan knew he wouldn't be heading in to work. Fuck work! This was a crisis. He now drove like a maniac towards his last resort. There was no time to think and strategize. There was an urgency in his heart that overwhelmed him. Last night had been perfection and he had woken up wanting to create more of such moments. It wasn't just about the mind-numbing sex. No, there was so much more. Evan felt as though with Ron he touched something far more profound than he could ever experience alone. Without a doubt, the interaction between himself and Ron was such that the totality of their love was far much greater than the sum of anything he could ever, ever achieve individually. Simply put, he was far better off with Ron. He pulled up and hurried to the large door. God, how could he have been so blind? Questions would be answered later now, he was on a mission. He rang the doorbell and waited. They had to be home, he needed someone to open that door. The door knob turned and he came face to face with Professor Grant. "Evan." Ron's dad stared at him surprise registering on his face. "Professor Grant." Evan said, refraining himself from pushing his way into the house in search for his treasure. "Come in. What can I do for you?" The composed older man asked stepping aside. "Well, I was hoping you could...I mean, I am looking....Is Ron here?" As much as he was scared of the answer, he needed to know. "No." "You see, I am looking...I need to see him...Where is he?" Evan knew he sounded like a dimwitted, panicky, rambling idiot. It's just that so much was going on inside him, he couldn't think straight. "Don't you have work to go to, Evan?" Evan was shocked. Professor Grant's voice was laced with such sarcasm and touch of disgust? Bitterness? A combination of both? Yes. Obviously Ron had shared the events of the past weeks. "No. I need to see Ron," Evan said trying to implore the unwavering man with his eyes. "I don't think that's a good idea." "Please," Evan begged. "Evan, let's get one thing clear. Ron is my son, my only child. I know him. He has always been intense, sometimes broody and extremely passionate since he was a little boy. His mother and I always worried that perhaps he was too guarded and too independent for his own good. That he would never find love. Then he fell in love with you," Ron's dad paused and shook his head as if in disappointment. "I...I..." Evan stuttered. "Listen because I am going to say this only once. Then he fell in love for the first time in his life. Like everything else my son does, he loved you with everything in him. Everything. We had never seen our son so happy. Ron feels with such intensity," he paused again. His words pierced Evan's heart. "I know..." "You have broken his heart. I will not let you keep hurting my son. If you cannot love him the way he loves you, just let him be." He stopped talking and then clasped his hand together to show that the conversation was over. Evan would have screamed at the pain those words had caused but his throat was numb, choked up with tears. He tried. "I messed everything up. I have been such a coward and it hasn't paid off. No, no, just give me a moment. Nothing else matters anymore. Not Cece, not my career, not anyone, nothing. Professor Grant, I love him, I need him. Please." "Why should I believe you? Why should I believe that you finally get it?" Ron's dad asked raising a dark eyebrow at Evan. It was clear that this man loved his son so dearly. "Because I understand that loving your son does not make me weaker or less of a man, loving him makes my life, my accomplishments all that more profound because I have someone to share them with. Please." It was so simple. Evan's voice quivered with an anxiety he had never experienced. He waited for the next words, holding his breath through the agonizing seconds. "Go see whether he'll have you. He decided he needed to leave town for a short vacation and to work on his novel. He is leaving for Florence at 10 o'clock this morning." The grandfather clock hanging on the wall said quarter past nine and the airport was easily forty minutes away. "Thanks," Evan said and ran out without waiting for a moment more. Ron's Story Ron sat at Terminal C waiting for boarding. Friday morning must be the most popular departure time because the place was packed with travelers. Was everyone going to Europe to forget their woes too? He found a chair in the back of the waiting lounge and waited patiently. His thoughts were involved and he let them roll around in his head. He had tried his hand at love and love had failed him. That sucked. His first attempt at love and it was a complete letdown. He had learned his lesson and it was going to take a very long time before he indulged in that emotion again. He was over love! Why was he lying to himself? He loved Evan. This was a good plan though. Going away was the perfect way to renew himself. And his life was changing in other ways too. He was finally pursing writing and it was invigorating. His mind involuntarily led him to thoughts of Evan. Tearing himself from the bed this morning was by far the hardest thing he had ever had to do. Last night's sensual experiences had been so astonishingly fulfilling and he wanted to begin the morning with more of the same exquisite loving. But Ron was logical. He knew staying would have meant continued arguments about their love and its place in the larger scheme of things. He knew staying was simply setting himself up for disappointment. The funny thing was; he didn't doubt that Evan loved him. It was just that he seemed to love his career and his connection with everything else a little bit more. It hurt but he really needed to move on. "Passengers boarding Alitalia Flight 567 to Florence, Italy prepare for boarding," the long awaited announcement came through the PA system. Some passengers started assembling their carry-on luggage. Why did airlines have to tease so much? "Prepare for boarding" usually translated to "get your asses comfortable, you've only just begun waiting." Perhaps it was a psychological thing where some studies showed faking the immediacy of departure kept passengers sane, Ron concluded. After what seemed an eternity, the real boarding call was made. Ron got on line and waited. The usual complainers and naggers did their bit of complaining and nagging causing the crew to slow down the boarding process even further. Ron realized as he waited his turn that he was really going away from his life as he had experienced it since Evan. His departure and his return would both be without Evan. To hell with it, he needed to stop tormenting himself. "Attention passengers, would a Ronald Grant please report to Terminal C Security Desk?" Ron's head snapped back in surprise. Security Desk? Without hesitating he got off the line and headed to the call as fast as he could. He had a flight to catch and Homeland Security had picked a tight time to call for him. What could it be? "I'm Ronald Grant. You called me over the PA system," he said hurriedly to the bored- as-hell looking guy at the security desk. "Hold on," the guy said and started looking at his notes. How could he have forgotten, it was less than three minutes ago? "My flight is boarding right now," Ron added impatiently. "Yeah. There is an Evan Shaw to see you. He says it is important. It's not a medical emergency or life or death situation. You have to go to the other side in the arrival lounge if you want to see him. Those are the new regulations." What the fuck was Evan doing at the airport? There was nothing more to say. They had said it all. Plus he was scared of facing the pain again and he was burnt-out. Ron looked over his shoulder and he could see the Florence line shortening. He needed to catch his flight. Evan's Story From where he was standing, Evan could see Ron standing at the security desk. Why was he just standing there? He ran his hands frantically through his hair and kept his eyes fixed on Ron. Shit, shit, shit! Ron was obviously considering taking the flight. Fuck, he hadn't strategized that far ahead and he had no idea what he would do if Ron decided to walk away. He wanted to just run over through the metal detectors, past the two armed military men and all the way to Ron. Fuck homeland security! Why was Ron standing there talking to the guy? Evan did the next best thing he could come up with. Thirty seconds later. "Excuse me. Do you have any flights to Florence still available?" Evan asked the smiling face behind the ticket counter. "When would like to leave, Sir?" "Now. It's an emergency." "Let me check..." She hit the keys. Tap, tap, tap, enter, tap. "We only have one first class ticket left but..." "I'll take it. Could we hurry this up?" Evan said before she could get all of her verbose statement out. He drummed his fingers on the counter and listened to the keyboard tapping away rapidly. He then pulled out his credit card and placed it in front of the saleslady. "Final call for passengers boarding Alitalia Flight 567 to Florence, Italy. Please report to Gate C12." "That's my flight,' Evan said more to himself than to the lady. "Don't worry, Sir. We will get you boarded on time. May I see your passport?" Fuck! Double fuck! Triple fuck! A fucking passport! He did not have his passport. It was over. He grabbed his credit card and did the last best thing. He rushed back to the spot he had been waiting for Ron, just beyond the new, advanced, state-of-the-art metal detectors. He almost died when he saw Ron's retreating form hurrying towards gate C12. Ron had chosen to leave. The security guy recognized him. "Hey. The guy you wanted, Ronald Shaw, came to the gate. He said to tell you he'll call you from Florence. Something about needing to do this. I don't know. I didn't quite get it." Evan heard the words and wanted to die. So he did the very, very last thing he could do. "Ron! Ron!" He shouted loudly and watched Ron stop dead on his tracks. Then he watched that magnificently gorgeous body turn around towards him. "Buddy, you can't shout like that around here," the surprised guard said pointing to the area. Evan looked around and noticed that everyone was staring at him like he was a mad man. Fuck them! People shouted in the airport all the time. That's why it was always noisy. He ignored everything and focused on Ron. He wanted to say so much. He wanted to say: that now he understood that love couldn't jeopardize his career; that nothing else was as important as Ron; that he wanted them to make a full, open life together; that he was sorry for being so blind and that he didn't care what others thought. He couldn't shout all that. Instead he shouted, "Ron! Marry me!" Ron's Story Those words shook him. He felt the tingles rise from the core of his being and spread through his whole body. He lifted his head and stared back, easily recognizing Evan out of the crowded terminal. He could feel Evan's eyes connected to his even from fifteen meters away. Those hazel eyes on him, that's all he could feel. The flight was forgotten, the people staring wide-eyed and shocked were ignored, the noisy airport was muted and all he could hear was the crazy pounding of his heart. Then he started walking towards Evan. Everyone stopped and stared maybe because they were shocked by the strange request from one man to another, maybe because they found the two men magnetizingly handsome, maybe because it was the airport and nothing remotely interesting happens at airports on a day to day basis. In any case, Terminal C seemed to come to a standstill, people gawked and others rushed over to witness the happening, clearing the way for Ron to pass. Every step Ron took felt like a thousand steps. He kept on walking forward until only two meters separated him from Evan. He walked through the metal detector and stood two feet from Evan. "Marry me." Evan whispered his voice shaking with emotion. Ron's simple reply followed half a second later, "Yes." They moved towards each other and their lips met in a kiss. Someone started clapping and then more joined in until the whole place thundered with applause. They clapped simply because they found themselves drawn towards love. THE END This story would not have happened without the positive emails from so many nifty readers. I'm not joking; your emails inspired me to go further with this story than I ever would have. You totally engaged me in this endeavor. I almost wish I had more to write. I hope I tied up all the loose ends and that the story feels completely told. The title seems inappropriate now that the story is done. I started with other expectations and ended up here. Perhaps "Symmetry" can still work in a deep, kinda convoluted way. I'm sticking with "Symmetry". Dane For all those who ask: I have not written any other stories.