Date: Thu, 30 Apr 2015 20:25:15 +0100
From: Alain Mahy <amahy1957@gmail.com>
Subject: Peace at last

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Valentine's Day 2015.

A very special day for me, but not what you'd thought.  It was the
fifteenth anniversary of my best friend's death.  John died of Love.  Yes,
he had lost his husband Chris a year before.  His husband had cancer, you
see.  He was seriously sick for three years before he was released of his
pain.  Three years Chris had not left his bed, being it at the hospital or
at home.  He had requested to not die in hospital.  The doctor thought it
was foolish of him to go home after each blood transfusion, but Chris
insisted.  He didn't want to leave this world from an anonymous hospital
room.  John respected his wish and cared for him more than you can imagine.
He washed Chris every day, changed the sheets without Chris leaving the
bed.  He took care of his wounds better than a professional nurse.  He
washed the bottle after Chris peed, and the bedpan whenever it was
necessary.  He fed Chris, even though Chris ate every day less and less.  A
housekeeper did the rest of the work in the house.  She was a woman from
the country and had that basic good sense that is typical for country
people.  At the last of his suffering, Chris asked for a beer.  The
housekeeper started to cry and sob.  She explained to John that when
country people arrive at the very end of their lives, they usually ask for
a beer.  John gave it to Chris.  What harm could it do?  Three hours later,
Chris fell asleep and didn't wake up.

To say John was devastated is an understatement.  Yes, he was kind of happy
that Chris' suffering was finished, but he couldn't help asking over and
over again what he was going to do without his husband.  After Chris'
funeral, John was lost.  Suddenly he had nothing to do: nobody to take care
of or nobody to talk to or read the paper to.  He suddenly had nothing to
do, neither washing somebody or change the bed sheets for.  John sat most
of his days in the easy chair that had been the favorite of Chris.  The
television would be on, but if you asked John what he was watching, he was
totally incapable to answer.  The television was on just to have the
impression someone was in the house.  John and Chris had been major
classical music fans, but John couldn't bring himself to switch on the
sound system.  Bit-by-bit John started to lose weight.  In less than six
months he was half what he used to be.  I was devastated to see him like
that.  I tried to get him out of his house, but John declined every single
time.  And then, on February 13th, he had a major brain bleeding.  He was
taken to the hospital and the nurses called me as I was mentioned as the
person to call in case of emergency.  When I arrived, John was already in
the coma.  The doctors talked with me for what seemed the longest time.
John had given me an envelope to open only if something happened to him.  I
had it with me when the hospital called for me to go.  Inside was a letter
from John, stipulating very clearly that he didn't want to be kept alive
artificially.  That letter was signed by John, countersigned by a notary
and with an official stamp on it.  The doctors asked me if that was what I
wanted as well and I just said yes.  John was then disconnected the next
day from the artificial breather and brought to a normal room.  I hold his
hand and talked to him even though he was in the coma.  I told him to let
go, to go and be rejoined with the love of his life.  I assured him I was
going to be fine.  And while I talked to him, holding his hand and looking
at his face, I suddenly saw his face-muscles relax.  He seemed peaceful.  A
few minutes later he stopped breathing.  John and Chris were reunited.

I didn't cry.  I wasn't sad because of he left this world.  I was happy
that he had been in my life all these years and that he now was reunited
with the love of his life.  John was buried next to Chris and a new one
replaced the tombstone that mentioned only Chris where both were mentioned.
The funeral was supposed to be simple and intimate, but so many friends
came to pay their last respect.  The grave was covered with flowers.  Chris
and John had many friends!

A few weeks later, I received a call from their notary.  He asked me to
come by for the reading of their will.  When I arrived I was immediately
let in the main office of the official will's executor.  I was surprised to
be there alone.  The notary started to read the will word by word.  I
didn't hear a word of it.  I was lost in my thoughts and the memory of my
best friend and his husband.  When he was finished reading, I was startled
by the silence.

- Mr. Kensington, do you understand what I just read to you?  the notary
asked.

I had to admit I didn't, as I hadn't listened very carefully.  I asked him
to give me a brief description.

Actually, the deceased left everything to you, including the house, the
cars, everything that is in the house, their money and their investments.
You are the only heir mentioned in this will and ...

I was once again totally out of focus.  I knew Chris and John had been
wealthy and were very good businessmen all their life.  I knew none of them
had family but that they named me, as their only heir was a total surprise
to me.  When the notary mentioned the total amount of their possessions I
was flabbergasted.  If I wanted, I could stop working and never have the
slightest financial problem.  I just inherited a house and two fairly new
cars.  Everything in the house was mine, from furniture, paintings, books,
clothes and so on.  I hadn't the first clue of what to do with it.  The
notary handed me the keys to the house and a list of everything that was
now mine.

I left his office in a blur.  The fresh spring air hit me in the face once
I was on the street.  I stopped a taxi and gave him Chris and John's
address.  When he stopped in front of the house I hesitated, but finally
paid the taxi and got out.  John had given me the code to open the gate
years ago so that I could let myself in while he took care of Chris.  I
entered through the iron gate and walked the short distance to the front
door.  I took out the set of keys I received and opened the door.

Once inside, I was overwhelmed by the silence.  It was almost scary.  I had
been in this house hundreds of times, and now it seems strange.  It was as
if I expected Chris or John to come out of the living room and greet me.
As I had always done, I took off my shoes before going any further.  Chris
and John were so proud of their hardwood floors and oriental rugs they had
bought over the years.  Nobody was allowed in the house with their shoes
on.  I did it more out of habit.

That silence was such that I was afraid to make any noise.  I looked around
and was familiar with everything I saw, but nonetheless felt like an
intruder.  I had to get used to the fact that all this was now mine.  I
jumped in the air when suddenly a door opened and I saw the housekeeper.  I
didn't expect her to be here.

- Mr. Kensington, she said, the notary has warned me you would probably
drop by.

- My name is William.  Mr. Kensington was my late father Vivian.  Call me
William please.

- Ok William.  The notary told me you would update me with the latest
information.  I just prepared a pot of coffee.  Would you fancy one?

I accepted and followed her to the kitchen.  She served me my coffee and
then went on saying how beautiful the funeral ceremony had been and how
many flowers there were on the grave and so on.  I then informed her of the
actual situation.

That means you are my new boss then, or do I have to look for another job?
Vivian asked.

If you want it, you can stay Vivian, it is a big house and I don't know if
I can handle it on my own.  I don't know yet what I am going to do with it.
Maybe I will keep it or maybe I will sell it, I don't know yet.  In any
case, I will tell you as soon as I made up my mind.  But for the moment,
I'll keep on paying the same wages Chris and John paid you.  I would
appreciate it if you stayed a while longer and if I decide to keep the
house, I would like you to keep on the good work for me as you did for
them.

Vivian seemed happy to stay.  She was a live-in housekeeper and dreaded to
have to move.  She was so used to this house being at Chris and John's
service for so long.  I told her that the chances of keeping the house were
bigger than the ones of selling it.

After that, I went to have a look at that house that was so familiar to me
and yet so strange.  I wondered if I could live here and be happy.  There
were so many memories of happy times, but the sickness of Chris weighted on
the house as well.  Three years of medical help, nurses and doctors had
left a serious print on this place.  I went to the living room and sat down
in Chris' favorite chair, the one John had used in the last year.  I closed
my eyes for a moment and left my mind drift to memory lane...

I remembered how I had met John.  It was in the years before AIDS and I was
a regular customer at one of the city's bathhouses.  Yes, in those days
there was little risk to go and have anonymous sex.  I remembered I was
sitting in the steam room, surrounded by several men who were touching each
other and then leaving the steam room to find themselves a more secluded
room.  Others were more blatant and had sex there and then, probably
enjoying giving a show to the others.  When I went to the bathhouse, I
always started with a Finnish sauna and then staying a good while in the
steam room, till my heart was pounding so hard I had to go out and take a
refreshing shower.  That day I was already sweating profusely when a very
nice looking man sat on the lower bench while I sat on the upper one.  I
didn't know if he did on purpose, but he sat between my legs.  I thought he
was gorgeous and I as horny enough to make him understand I wouldn't mind
have some fun with him.  It all started quite innocently.  I gave him a
good massage of his shoulders as he was sitting between my legs and a
little but lower.  I had perfect access.  That man, John, let me massage
him.  At one point he rested his arms on my legs and I got an even better
access to his upper arms and chest.  My hands roamed over his upper body
and I playfully pinched his nipples.  He threw his head back and the back
of it came in contact with my hard cock.  The light in the steam room was
dimmed, but not enough to prevent me to see his cock was hard as well.  A
third man looked at what we did and I could see that the towel he had kept
around his waist was tenting.  John had lifted his arms and hooked his
fingers in my neck.  He was gently forcing me down till our lips met.  That
kiss was electrifying and turned to a very passionate one.  We were
oblivious to who could see us or not and we didn't care.  It was only when
John broke the kiss that I noticed the third man on his knees in front of
John, sucking his cock in earnest.  John's breath was heavy.  I didn't know
if it was the result of the very warm steam, the kiss we had shared or the
sucking action of the man on his knees.  It didn't take long for John to
spurt his load in the man's mouth.  When he was spent, the man got up and
presented a very hard cock to John who leaned forward and returned the
favor.  The man was clearly enjoying it and leaned forward to take my cock
in his mouth.  It was no wonder that John had come so fast as the guy was a
real expert with his lips and tongue.  All the while sucking, the man
moaned and sent vibrations through my whole body.  His moaning gat faster
and I guessed he was about to climax.  I pushed my hips up and tried to
reach his throat with my cock.  The man understood I was not far from
coming myself and wrapped his hand around the part of my cock that was not
in his mouth.  He started masturbating me and in no time I deposited my
load in his mouth while the convulsions in his body told me he was
unloading in John's mouth.  As soon as he finished, he wrapped his towel
around his waist and left the steam room.  I whispered to John to meet me
at the bar and left the steam room myself, took a shower and after drying
went to the bar.  A few minutes later John came to me, stretched out his
hand and presented himself.  I told him my name and we ordered two beers.

Where in normal circumstances I would have recuperated enough to have a
second session in the steam room, I stayed at the bar with John.  We talked
for hours.  It really clicked between us and none of us went back to the
steam room.  Instead, at about seven, we decided to dress and have some
dinner together.  After that first meal we went to a gay club and had some
more drinks.  Around midnight, John invited me to his place and I accepted.
We had some torrid sex.  Everything that is written in "The Joy of Gay Sex"
was tried out.  We did it all and when we saw the morning light coming
through the blinds, we were still horny as hell.  We took a shower together
and under the warm spray of water I penetrated him once more, but pulled
out before climaxing.  I turned around and John penetrated me and finished
us both off.  After that we slipped between the sheets and slept like
angels.

In the following days we had more torrid sex, but strangely enough we
realized that we connected better out of bed than in it.  Don't
misunderstand me.  The sex was hot and satisfying, but we felt a stronger
connection when we were talking and sharing information about our lives.
With time, we talked even more and had less sex.  The sexual activity
became sporadic, till we talked about it and we agreed that we didn't need
the sex to have a sincere friendship.  From then on, we met on a regular
base.  We were often seen eating together and afterwards having some drinks
in the city's gay bars.  We knew we were becoming inseparable friends and
no boyfriends.  We even went on holiday together and had the most fantastic
time of our lives, laughing a lot and connecting with other holidaymakers.
John had that self-confidence over him that made him very attractive.
During those holidays he even had an affair with a guy who was there on his
honeymoon.  His wife didn't suspect a thing and John told me how much the
guy loved to feel John's dick inside of him.  I wandered for hours on the
beach while John had his way with the newly wed guy.  I could understand,
as I knew John was a great lover in bed.

Once we were back from our holiday, we went on with our daily routine of
going to work and meet at least once a week.  John always told me about his
sexual exploits and I knew he was not exaggerating!  He had a hunger for
sex that was almost insatiable.  You could often see his car parked at one
or the other cruising place.  He just loved having sex in the open air and
the additional danger of being caught made it all better for him.  I
guessed it was more a search of love that he confounded with lust, till he
met Chris.  From there on, John changed completely.  They had met on a
parking lot along the motorway that was known for gay encounters.  They had
sex on the hood of the car where they were visible to anyone.  They didn't
care, but when they were finished, Chris asked John to come to his house.
John told me that they had sex in every single room of the Victorian house.
They just couldn't get enough of it.  What happened is that they connected
in a lot of ways, not only sexually.

The difference between Chris and me was easy: John fell in love with Chris
and it was mutual.  Chris accepted me as John's best friend and I accepted
him as John's boyfriend.  Only three months into their relationship, Chris
asked John to move in with him.  John didn't hesitate for a moment.  Our
meetings were not so often anymore.  I respected their relationship and
didn't want to interfere or being the fifth wheel of the cart.  Chris
accepted the friendship John and I had and even insisted that we would go
on like before, having the occasional meal and the few drinks afterwards.
Some times Chris accompanied us, but most of the time he preferred us to
have some quality time by ourselves.  Chris and John got married as soon as
the law permitted it.  A wedding party with famous artists was nothing
compared to theirs.  I was John's best man and was proud to stand next to
him on that very special occasion.  To go to town hall and after the
ceremony to go to the venue where the wedding party was held, Chris had
rented an old 1950's convertible Rolls Royce.  You should have seen them!

The party was the gayest gay party you could imagine.  Chris could be
flamboyant from time to time and although it was not what John preferred,
he went along fine when his husband was in such a mood.  They were so in
love with each other although they were quite different.  They were
complementary if I can say so.  They had a happy life.  They worked a lot
and earned quite some money, but at the same time they cared for others and
knew when it was time to play and forget about their jobs.  They had found
the perfect balance.  They traveled extensively, as they both liked to
discover new countries and new cultures.  They were involved in charity,
but not only with money.  They were physically present where they were
needed.  Strangely enough, they were a hundred percent monogamous.  John
said he had had his share of men and was content and satisfied with his
husband.  He said he didn't need more.


I was sitting there, in Chris' favorite chair and had not realized a few
tears had been rolling down my cheek.  I tried to compose myself before
heading to the kitchen.  I found Vivian preparing some supper and we sat
down eating the succulent cuisine of Vivian.  It was inevitable to talk
about Chris and John.  The more we talked, the more I realized I couldn't
let some strangers live in their house.  I decided there and then to keep
the house and sell my apartment.  I told Vivian she could take some days
off and maybe visit some siblings and that when she came back I would have
moved in.  She was overjoyed with the news that I wasn't selling the house.

I had to organize quite some things.  First of all, I wanted to get rid of
Chris and John's bed.  It was a nice one, but I couldn't get myself to
sleep in their bed.  Apart from that, I had always difficulty to sleep in
another bed than mine.  I would have to move my things from my rented
apartment to the house.  I wasn't looking forward to pack all my things and
in the end I hired a moving company that did it all for me.  It was a
little expensive, but I could afford it now.  In just one day, they packed
my things, moved them and unpacked them at the house.  They also took away
Chris and John's bed and dropped it off at a charity.  The things I didn't
need immediately were pilled up in the basement.

I felt nosey when I started to go through Chris and John's things, but I
couldn't avoid it.  I even found a life insurance that was not mentioned on
the list the notary gave me.  To my surprise I was mentioned as
beneficiary.  Another important check was coming my way.  I found a whole
bunch of photo albums, all neatly organized and beautifully done, with
comments next to each picture.  All the travels they had done were there.
Europe, the States, Thailand and Malaysia ... you name it and they had been
there.  One album had no title and when I opened it, I understood.  Those
were nude pictures done by a professional.  All pictures were very erotic
without showing their genitals.  There was one picture in particular that
aroused me because it expressed the love they had for each other.  It was a
black and white picture and I couldn't stop staring at it.  It was so
beautiful.  I decided to take it out of the album and have it printed in
poster format, then framed and hung up above the fireplace in the living
room.  They would always be with me.

I also found some letters that they wrote to each other on the rare
occasions they were separated for business or other reasons.  I was tempted
to read them, but thought I would invade their privacy.  Finally, I burned
them without opening them.  In the garage I found two cars.  John was
somebody who was not interested in cars at all.  He never bought a new car,
always second hand ones.  For him it was just a tool to take him from point
A to point B.  Nothing else!  His car was a fifteen-year-old car, but that
functioned perfectly.  Chris was the opposite.  He loved cars and if you
had let him, he would have had several.  But in the garage I found a Range
Rover that seemed new.  I looked at the papers and it was about four years
old but had almost never been driven.  If I had to believe the kilometers
mentioned on the counter, the car was equal to brand new.  Making a little
calculation he must have bought it just before he was diagnosed with
cancer.

The last place I visited was the attic.  First I found a huge amount of
boxes with only clothes in it.  Everything was cleaned and neatly folded.
Some of the items were maybe a little out of date, but in perfect state.  I
decided to give to the same charity I had given their bed to.  I carried
all the boxes to the garage and saw I would have to do various trips to the
charity.  The Range Rover has a good charging space, but nonetheless I did
a total of four trips.  I also found some more valuable items, being it
furniture, books, antiques and so on.  I contacted an antique shop to see
if they were interested in the whole bunch of those things.  The guy that
came to see what was for sale, ended up giving me some good money for
everything.  Vivian would have her work to clean the attic, as quite some
dust had accumulated over the years.

I kept their telephone landline, although I had my own cell phone.  I got
several calls from people who hadn't received the news of John's death.  It
came as a chock to them when I told them what had happened.  One of the
calls got my attention.  The guy who called thought he had the wrong number
as he, of course, didn't recognize the voice.  I gave him the news and I
could hear the guy, who had presented himself as Joe, starting to cry.  I
let him do.  Once he had calmed down, he explained he was a friend of the
couple.  John had told him about Chris' death.  As he lived abroad, he had
decided to come over and trying to lift John's mood.  I asked him where he
was calling from, and he said he had just landed and was still at the
airport.  Joe never announced his arrival, as he liked to surprise his
friends.  In the past he had done so several times and always stayed at the
house.  I told him to take a taxi and to come over.  I didn't know the guy,
but if Chris and John opened their house to him, I guessed I could do as
well.  Friends of friends were friends, right?

About an hour later the front doorbell rang.  I went to open the door and
had the most gorgeous man in front of me.  He stretched out his hand saying
"I'm Joe".  His grip was firm but without crushing the bones in my hand.
Although he had a sad look on his face, I could see he had very fine
features.  His wavy black hair, with some grey on the temples, was almost
reaching his shoulders.  His square jaw was adorned with a two or three day
stubble.  His piercing blue eyes looked directly into my soul despite their
sad look.  I hold his hand a little longer than what was necessary for
politeness purpose and then I threw all caution in the wind, pulling him
into a hug.  I felt his toned body in my arms and his head nestled itself
on my shoulder while he started sobbing again.

He dropped his suitcase in the entrance hall and I invited him into the
living room.  His eyes were directly drawn to the poster above the
fireplace.  He looked at it for several minutes.  I kept silent as to give
him time to be reunited with his friends.  His sobbing diminished and after
while stopped.  He then turned to me, asking for a stiff drink if I didn't
mind.  I made us two drinks and we sat down.  His eyes were constantly
drawn to the picture.  He started to explain how he had met Chris and John
while they were on holiday where he lived.  They had connected immediately
and had a great time.  While they were there, they saw each other everyday
and had several meals together as well as drinks afterwards.  Over the
years he had come on various occasions, but it hadn't been easy as he was
far from rich.  For each trip he had to calculate and save money.

We shared precious memories of the moments with the two friends who had
left us.  When Vivian came in to ask what I wanted to eat, she saw Joe and
almost ran towards him.  He got up and hugged her like a life long friend.
He was truly happy to see him and for Joe it was a hard moment again
because Vivian reminded him of the times he was here with Chris and John
alive.  I invited Vivian to sit with us and have some quality time with
Joe.  Her eyes beamed gratitude.  After about an hour, while I had been
listening more than participating in their conversation, I told Vivian that
Joe was going to stay with us for the time he was here.  Joe tried to
protest, but I wouldn't take no for an answer.  Vivian said she would
prepare his room and prepare dinner for three instead of two.

Joe was a guy who was easy to talk with, but very emotional.  Every now and
then, some memory made him sob or have tears in his eyes.  Each time he
apologized although I told him there was no reason for it.  After the meal,
Vivian went to her quarters.  Joe and I sat in front of the fireplace,
trying to get to know each other.  After all, he was a semi stranger in my
house.  When it was time to go to bed, Joe hugged me, or better said
squeezed me in his arms.

- Thanks for being who you are William.  It means a lot to me!

- You're welcome, I said with a smile, I start to understand why Chris and
John considered you a friend!

He knew his way around the house, so I went to my bedroom and took a shower
in the en-suite bathroom.  After that I slipped between the sheets and fell
asleep before my head hit the pillow.

In the middle of the night I was woken by a loud scream.  I wondered where
it came from, but a second one made me realize it was from Joe's bedroom.
I was a little worried and at the third scream I got up and went to his
bedroom.  Joe was sitting in his bed, bathed in sweat.  I switched on his
nightstand lamp and saw tears rolling down his cheeks.  I sat next to him
and wrapped my arms around his naked chest.  He clung to me like a child to
his mother after having a bad dream.  It was strange to see such a hunk of
a man being so emotional and crying so easily.  I rocked him softly and
assured him he was safe.  The tears subsided and he apologized once more.
When I tried to get up, he grabbed me forcefully asking me not to leave
him.  He was really scared.  I didn't want to pressure him so I didn't ask
anything.  I felt sleepy and my eyelids got heavy.  I had no choice as to
slip between his sheets.  I had my briefs on, but Joe was completely naked.
I hoped I would fall asleep before my hands would have a mind of their own
and caress Joe stunning body.  Once we lay down, Joe rested his head on my
chest and fell asleep as quickly as I did.

The following morning we were woken by the sunshine coming through the
blinds.  Joe and I had not moved at all.  The only thing different was that
Joe had a major morning wood pushing against my thigh.  My own morning wood
was still in my briefs, but about to pop out.  I tried to get out of bed,
but Joe grabbed me firmly and asked for five more minutes.  I warned him
that if I waited five more minutes, the bed would be wet.  He let me go!

I went to my own bathroom and went through my morning routine.  Once ready
I slipped on my 501's and a T-shirt.  I looked into Joe's room, but he was
not in bed anymore.  I heard the shower running.  I told him I would meet
him in the kitchen.  Vivian was preparing breakfast when I came in.  She
had heard the screams as well during the night and asked if everything was
ok.  I reassured her.

- You know, she said, Joe has been in the military and went to Iraq.  It
must have been a traumatic experience for him, as I have always known him
to scream in the middle of the night.  Now, I didn't tell you anything
here.  If he wants, he'll open up to you and tell you himself.

I promised her secret was safe with me.  Joe came in a few minutes later,
kissed Vivian on her cheek and then came over to me and kissed me on my
forehead.  He whispered "Thank You" in my ear.  Over breakfast he asked me
if I could drive him to the cemetery.  He wanted to pay his respects to
Chris and John.  I accepted although I didn't look forward to it.  I just
hate cemeteries.

Joe got, once again, emotional when he saw the new tombstone with both
names on it.  I was surprised to see that there were fresh flowers on the
grave.  I guessed friends had thought of bringing them.  Joe had again
tears in his eyes and as we left the cemetery, he apologized fro being so
emotional.

- You really have to stop apologizing Joe, I said, there is no need for it
and I understand the emotional charge that you have on your shoulders.  It
is not easy to arrive and discover that the friend you come to visit passed
away.

- It is not only that, he said, come on, let's have a walk and I'll tell
you.

I was surprised that Joe opened up to me so quickly.  He volunteered the
information although I hadn't asked for it.

- I was in the military and was sent to Iraq.  Before leaving I thought we
would go and give a good lesson to those SOB.  The first lesson I learned
was to be a lot more humble.  Maybe we were better equipped, but the locals
had something we didn't have: a strong conviction and even stronger believe
in their religion.  Those guys were fanatics.  They believe in texts that
have been written centuries ago and have not changed although the world
around them changed.  They were prepared to chase us away at all costs.  My
best mate was Chuck.  We had been best friends since day one in the army.
It took us almost a year to discover we were both gay and that we had very
strong feelings towards each other.  It was in Iraq that we talked about it
for the first time.  That night we were on duty and as everything was
quiet, we started to talk and admit our feelings.  It was that same night
that for the first time we kissed.  We kissed till the daylight came up.
When our tour of duty was over, we were allowed to sleep.  Before we went
to sleep, we had a shower.  We were alone in the showers and even though we
were used to see each other naked, that morning we looked at each other in
a different way.  We were soon sporting hard-ons.  We were very careful
because we didn't want the rest of the guys know we were gay and beginning
a love relationship.  We wanted to touch each other, but didn't dare.  It
was not till the next time we were on night duty again that we touched in
an intimate way.  On our second tour of duty together, we made love for the
first time.  It was an exquisite experience and we shot our loads more than
once.  After that night we searched for moments to be alone.  We never
fucked.  We only made love.  Nobody ever saw our growing relationship.  It
was the army after all.

Joe took a deep breath as if the following part of his story was difficult
to tell, but went on.

- The good thing was that we looked out for each other even more than
before.  We even volunteered for the night duty, as we knew we wouldn't be
disturbed and we would have the showers to ourselves in the morning.
Although we hated to be in Iraq with all the possible inconveniences, it
was a happy time for us.  Chuck and I had found love and we were already
making plans for a life together once we were back home.

Joe breathed deeply and I could see his eyes got moist.

- We had received our orders and we were going to be shipped home after
about a year in the desert.  You can't imagine how happy we were and we had
a countdown on our calendar.  The night before we were going to be shipped
back, the barracks were massively attacked.  Grenades and other artillery
were making us deaf.  We were in full alert in no time.  We were lucky to
have more advanced technology and neutralized the enemy's action quite
fast.  Nonetheless, we were watching out carefully because we never knew
when the next attack would be.  We suddenly heard a deafening explosion
very close to us.  When I turned around to see if Chuck was ok, if could
only see blood.  His face had literally disappeared.  He didn't move.  I
crawled over to where he as, but immediately realized he was dead.  I fell
on my knees next to him and was unable to move.  I looked and tried to see
his lovely face, but it wasn't there.  The medics came over very quickly,
but there was nothing they could do.  They put him on stretcher and to the
infirmary, but only to do the necessary paperwork and give the instruction
to have his body repatriated.  It was only hours later that they noticed my
absence.  Some of the medics had seen me next to Chuck's body and came
back.  I was still on my knees with a total absent look on my face.  They
picked me up although I was not wounded.  The next day Chuck's coffin was
on the same plane I was on to come back.  There was an official funeral for
him, but they didn't let me attend it.  I was in hospital for various weeks
before I came out of my stupor.  When I came out of it I was still haunted
by the image of faceless Chuck.  Since then I have nightmares that exhaust
me completely.  You've seen the result last night.

All through his story I had held his hand.  He lifted it and kissed my
fingers.

- We don't know each other very much.  I appreciate so much your being
there for me.  Once you slipped into bed with me, the nightmares didn't
come back.  You can't imagine what it means for me to be able to sleep more
than two hours in a row.  When Chris was sick, John often came into my bed
and those times I had the same results: no nightmares.  Once John noticed
it, he came with me to bed, not waiting for my screams.  It was Chris' idea
to do so.

- If it helps, I said, I don't mind you share my bed as long as you are
here.

Joe smiled at that remark, as he understood I was serious and insinuating
something at the same time.

- I appreciate your offer, Joe said, but I have to find a way to get rid of
those nightmares.  It is horrible to not being able to sleep.  It is
equally horrible to know I depend on someone to sleep.  It is as if I don't
have my own life in my hands and drives me nuts!  The doctors prescribed me
sleeping pills, but the result was a real disaster.  It gave me the
sensation of seeing my nightmares with more lucidity.

- Listen Joe, let's agree that we share my bed so that at least you can
enjoy your stay here.  It will give you the opportunity to catch up on some
very much needed sleep.  If I snore too loud, you just kick me in the ribs.
Ok?

- Ok, that's agreed, but don't hold it against me if my hands get a mind of
their own.  They could you know, as you are one sexy hunk of a guy.

- I think it is time you go and buy some glasses Joe, because if there is
one sexy guy here, it is you.



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