Date: Sun, 19 Nov 2000 06:51:20 -0800 (PST) From: Brew Maxwell Subject: Rob, Chapter 2 Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. The story contains graphic descriptions of sex between men, and anyone who is forbidden by law to read such material must exit the story now. The characters have unprotected sex, as characters safely can in fiction. Reality, obviously, is another matter entirely. This story is being posted to the Nifty Archive for the enjoyment of its readers. It may not be posted or distributed by any other medium without the written permission of the author. Other works by the author in the Nifty Archive include "Unusual Christmas" and the series Nick's Adventures, both in bisexual/high school; "First Mate" and "Twin Spin, Parts 1 and 2" in gay/incest; The Dancer and Call-Boy Journal in gay/encounters; "My First Year with Kevin" in gay/high school; and "From Slave to Houseboy" in gay/authoritarian. E-mail comments are always welcome. Rob Chapter 2 We found a nice, quiet place about two blocks from the hotel. It featured traditional New Orleans Creole food, and it was dark enough and secluded enough that we could talk of personal, even intimate, matters without fear of being overheard. We ordered drinks. When they arrived, I reached for my cigarettes but found I had left them back at the hotel. Rob immediately got up and left the table, saying "excuse me" as he pushed his chair back in place. I assumed he was going to the restroom, but he was back in a second with two packs of red box Marlboros. Apparently, they were his brand, too. He pulled a chrome Zippo from his pants pocket and lit us up. The familiar clink of the lighter as he closed it was one of the most masculine sounds I knew, and in his hands it gave me goosebumps. He set the lighter between us for my convenience. "Where were we," he asked. "Rob, listen," I said. "I don't have any right to pry into your personal life or your past. If you'd rather not talk about this, we don't have to. We can talk about football or politics or the weather, if you'd prefer." "I want to talk about it," he said. "I might get kind of sad, but I want to tell you about me. You're my only friend." A flood of emotion poured over me when he said that. God, if he only knew the heartache I'd experienced for the last six months, he would have had some appreciation of how much his considering me a friend meant to me. I reached over and touched his hand, half expecting him to pull it back from me. He didn't, though. Instead, he set his cigarette in the ashtray and covered my hand with his other one. He let out a deep sigh, and, even in the dim light, I saw his eyes fill with tears. He withdrew his hand quickly and wiped his eyes with his napkin. "I'm sorry, Dan," he said in a voice on the verge of full weeping. "I feel like a fucking girl right now. I hate it that I cry. It's so unmanly." This boy-man was the most masculine creature I had touched in my life, and his saying that made me tear up. "Baby, nobody will ever mistake you for a girl. Nobody. And if you need to cry, you cry all you want to." "I'm okay," he said and took a deep drag from his smoke. "I'm just gonna talk, okay. Ask me questions whenever you want to." "Okay," I said. "I've been so fucking miserable since I got here. I don't know a soul in this city, and I miss my friends and family so much. I especially miss Kevin." "Where is he now?" "He's in Miami," he replied. "In medical school. I think about him a million times a day. I call him at least three times a week, but lately that's only made me more lonely." "You're in love with him, aren't you," I asked. "Yes, I am." After a pause, he continued, "Maybe not in love, but I love him more than anyone else on earth. He saved me, man. And he loves me." "How did Kevin save you?" "That's a long story." "I don't fly out of here until 6:30 Sunday night. That's almost forty-eight hours. No story can be that long." He laughed when I said that. "Okay, here goes. It started when I was fifteen and a sophomore in high school. I played starting quarterback on my high school football team that year, and I thought I was really hot shit. At a party after our first home game, a senior girl came on real strong to me, and we ended up fucking in one of the bedrooms upstairs. That was the first sex I ever had with anybody, and I was on cloud nine. I was so high from that that I didn't get to sleep all that night for thinking about it. I must have jerked off four times." "Wow. That's impressive," I said. He grinned. "Anyway, we started dating after that. I didn't even have my driver's license. She would pick me up for dates and let me drive her car. It didn't take long for me to fall completely in love with her. I thought about her every hour of every day. She was everything to me. She graduated that year, but we continued dating. I got my license and a car in May of my sophomore year when I turned sixteen, and I was so unbelievably happy. "We continued dating and fucking when she started community college near Sarasota. She moved into an apartment, and that only made it easier for us to have sex. I used to regularly lie to my parents about spending the night with a buddy so I could spend the night with her. We were utterly, totally, and completely in love. "When my senior year started, we began talking about getting married right after I graduated. My parents wouldn't have liked that, but I knew they wanted me to go to college and would support us while I was in school. I started going to church with her every Sunday, and I even thought seriously about becoming a Catholic, like she was. "That fall our football team was undefeated in regular season play. We went to the state playoffs, and we won the quarter finals and our semi-final game. We lost in the finals to a team from Ft. Walton Beach. The quarterback was Danny Mitchell. Do you know who he is?" "The University of Florida quarterback who won the Heismann," I asked tentatively. "The same. He plays for the Saints now." "Wow. At least you were beaten by the best." "Yeah, but that didn't help the hurt of losing. I cried on the field. Hell, we all cried. Danny came over to me and put his arm around me and said I was the best quarterback he had ever played against. He literally took my helmet off, wiped the tears off my face, and kissed me on the forehead." "Is he gay, do you think," I asked. I was surprised at that. "Oh, hell, no. He's just that nice a guy. He didn't give a shit about what a whole stadium full of people thought about him when they saw it. He knew I was hurting bad, and he wanted to help me feel better. "Anyway, that was the week before Christmas. I was very down about the game, and, on top of that, I got a letter from Duke University saying I didn't get accepted on early decision." "You wanted to go to Duke? That's where I went," I said. "That's also where my parents and my older brother went," he said. "Anyway, that was the worse Christmas of my life. But I got over it when school started and I started looking forward to baseball." "Well, thank God you did," I said. "But not for long. The week after school started after Christmas, Melissa--that's her name--told me she was pregnant. She had known since October but had kept it from me until football season was over. I had noticed she looked like she had put on some weight, but not much at all. She also hadn't been very interested in sex, but I thought it was because we were both real busy and, hell, I don't know." "Oh, Rob," I said. The urge to hug him was strong, but I resisted. "That's terrible, especially on top of everything else that had happened. I guess that really depressed the hell out of you." "No. As a matter of fact, I was elated. That proved I was a man. I could father children. "Well, I wanted us to get married immediately. The baby was due in March. She really didn't act too excited at the idea. And then, finally, she said flat out no. She would not marry me now or ever. We argued about it, and finally she said she never wanted to see me again. "Well, I was devastated. I told my parents about what all had happened, and they went ballistic. They wanted her to have an abortion, but she was already too far along. Plus, she's Catholic, and you know how they are about abortion. I called her ten times a day, but she wouldn't talk to me. Finally, her dad got a judge to issue a restraining order against me. I was not to call her or be within a hundred yards of her. "That sent me over the edge. I went into dark clinical depression. I couldn't pay attention in school. I didn't do my homework. I was sad all the time, and I started drinking every night to try to ease the pain. Finally, on the day the baby was born, she called me from the hospital to say she had had it and that he was a boy. "I got really excited and happy for the first time in weeks. I told her I was coming to see her. She put her father on the line, and he said he'd have me arrested if I showed up at the hospital. "That was the last straw. I stole a bottle of my dad's best scotch and ran away. We have a tree farm in north Florida, and I drove up there. I started drinking, and the more I drank, the sadder I got. Finally, I passed out and went into a kind of coma. The guy who looks after the place found me and thought I was dead. He called my parents immediately, and they had been frantic. They took me to a hospital, pumped my stomach, and revived me. The doctor said I could have died of cardiac arrest. Anyway, my parents came and got me, and took me home. "I was out of school for three weeks, which didn't help my already-sucky grades. They took me to a psychiatrist, and he put me on anti-depressants. They finally worked, but it took weeks to regulate the dosage. By the beginning of May, I was feeling better, but I still had days that were so blue I thought I would die." I noticed he hadn't touched his drink. He paused for a moment, took a few sips of it and lit a cigarette. Then he continued. "One day I decided I wanted to see my son, so I went to Melissa's house. Her parents were out, so she let me in. I held the baby, played with him, touched and cuddled him. It was wonderful. "Her parents came home while I was there, and her old man literally kicked me out of his house. I'm talking boot to butt." "What about your parents? Where were they in all of this?" "They were great. They set up a trust fund for Max and gave me all the support they could." "A trust fund? What kind of work do they do?" "They're both doctors," he said. "My dad's a cardiologist, and my mom's a pediatrician. They had the money, but I had to pay it back when I turned twenty-one." How on earth could a twenty-one-year-old pay back what I assumed had been a large amount of money, I wondered. I didn't want to break the flow of the story, though, so I didn't ask. "Anyway, I continued taking my medicine and seeing the doctor for therapy, and I gradually got better. But you know what?" "What, Rob?" "I was bitter as hell about the whole fucking thing. Not about having a baby. About the way Melissa, who I loved more than life itself, treated me. "She finished community college, I graduated almost last in my class, and she moved to Birmingham, Alabama, with a guy she eventually married." "Do you ever see your son? What's his name again?" "Max. She named him after me. Maxwell. Max is his middle name, though. Not his last name. His first name is Richard. Her husband adopted him right after they got married, so now he has his name." "So, I guess you don't ever see him?" "Nope. Never. I'm over that now, though. And I think letting her husband adopt him was a good thing to do. The best for him, really. He's a good guy, and he apparently loves both of them." "Oh, baby, you've been through more shit in your young life than most people face in a lifetime. My heart goes out to you." "Thanks, Dan." He finished his drink, and the waiter asked if we wanted another round. I did, and I thought Rob could use one after that emotional unloading, so we ordered a second drink. We also ordered dinner then. As fascinating as the story had been to that point, I still hadn't heard Kevin's name mentioned in all of it. So I asked, "Where does Kevin fit in?" "Well, I started FSU in late August. Duke turned me down flat when they saw my second semester grades, and I don't blame them. My parents were pissed at that, but I wouldn't let them fight it. FSU was ranked number one in the pre-season polls and Duke was ranked...well, Duke wasn't ranked." He grinned for the first time since he had started his story. "Don't rub it in, asshole." "If I had a dollar for every time my father and brother have said those exact words to me, I could buy you dinner. Hell, I could buy this restaurant. Only they call me Shithead." I laughed, and Rob did, too. "Okay, so you started FSU, and..." "I was in a dorm, and Kevin was my roommate. We hit it off great right from the start. I hadn't really laughed much since January, but he kept me in stitches. The night we both got drunk and I told him about what had happened, we both cried. Then he said nothing like that would ever happen to him. "I said, don't be so sure, buddy. Melissa was on the pill or something. "Then he said, it won't happen to him because he was gay. "Well, I was surprised. I mean this guy makes me look like a pansy. The best all-around athlete I've ever played any sport against, and as macho as they come. "I told him I didn't believe him, and he assured me he wasn't lying. Then he asked if I had ever been attracted to guys. Frankly, until then, I hadn't even thought about it. But I knew I loved Kevin, and, once or twice when I had seen him hard in the morning, I had had a little sexual stirring. I hadn't touched a girl since January, and I had even stopped jerking off. I didn't even get hard anymore. That's what the anti-depressant medicine did to me. But that night was different. "We were in an un-air conditioned dorm, and in Tallahassee in late September it's hot. We were both in just our underwear. We were sitting facing each other on my bed, and he put his hand on my thigh. That's all it took. I got hard as a rock for the first time in months, and it was impossible to hide it." "What happened next," I asked. Then I said, "If this is painful or too personal, I don't have to know." "What happened next was he put his hand on my cock through my briefs. And God, did it feel good. He rubbed me gently, and I started thrusting against his hand. I came in about two minutes. Right inside my underwear. "Well, he was good and hard by then, too. He started rubbing himself, but I wanted to make him feel as good as he had made me feel. I pulled his briefs down and jerked him off the regular way. We stayed up the rest of the night, talking about how we felt about one another, kissing, cuddling, and, of course, jerking off some more. After that, I couldn't get enough of it, and he couldn't either. We had a private bathroom for us and the two guys next door, and we took showers together every chance we could. We'd rub our cocks together to make each other come." Our salads arrived, and Rob dug into his with gusto. I was so hard and so fascinated with this story, I barely touched mine. When he finished his salad, I asked, "Did you guys ever do anything more than jerk off?" "Oh, yeah. Eventually. We started with blowjobs. I had had a few blowjobs from Melissa and a couple of other girls--I know, I cheated on her; I'm sorry. But never anything like he gave me. That went on for a couple of months, and then it was Christmas vacation and the end of the semester. "He was from Jacksonville, and I was from Sarasota. They're at the opposite ends of the state, almost. His parents went to Italy the day after Christmas for a second honeymoon, so he came down and stayed with me. My brother went to New York after Christmas, and my parents were either working or attending parties all the time. We pretty much had the house to ourselves. "During that visit, Kevin told me he loved me and wanted to give himself to me completely. At first, I didn't know what he was talking about. But what he meant was he wanted me to fuck him." "Was he experienced? Had he done that before?" "No. Neither one of us had. I had fucked, of course, but never a guy. And never any girl in the ass. He knew what to do, though. We had several drinks to relax. Then we lubed up my cock and his asshole really well. I lay flat on my bed, and he lowered himself onto me. I thought it would hurt him, but it didn't." "No, it doesn't have to hurt. It sounds like you guys did it right," I said. "Well, he loved it. So I wanted to try. We did it the same way, and I took his cock, which is about an inch and a half smaller than mine, without any pain at all. It was like we were made to do it." "Did you enjoy it," I asked. "I loved it. I came so hard I almost passed out." Rob made that last statement just as the waiter brought our entrees, and I noticed him smile slightly. Rob didn't notice it, though. We ate our meals, which were outstanding, and Rob continued his narrative. "After that, fucking became our regular form of sex. We still sucked each other's cocks, sometimes shooting but more often saving it for the ass. We took turns. I'd fuck him one time, he'd fuck me the next. I was already in love with the guy, or so I thought, and I became convinced we'd be a couple for the rest of our lives. Our friends never knew, as far as I know, and we seemed to be just really good friends to everyone we came into contact with. But we were lovers. All the shit of the past year was over. The doctor took me off my anti-depressant, and for the next three years I was blissfully happy." "Why did you start dating again?" "That was actually Kevin's idea. He had a lot of questions about heterosex, er, heterosexual, er, about sex between a guy and a girl. He had never tried it, and he wanted to. We talked it over and decided having a girlfriend wouldn't hurt our relationship if we promised not to be jealous, so we both started dating." "Did it work out?" "It did for me. I dated three really nice girls over the next two years, and I fucked all three of them. Kevin got laid a few times, but he decided he wasn't interested. He never expressed a bit of jealousy about me and my girls, though, much to his credit, and he and I continued sucking, fucking, and jerking off pretty much as we always had. We moved into an apartment after freshman year, so we both had separate bedrooms. Sometimes I slept with Kevin; sometimes I slept with my girlfriend of the moment." "So how did Kevin save your life?" "He taught me what unconditional love is. He accepted me. He loved me. And he let me love him." "Are you sure you're only twenty-two? You've got maturity way beyond your years." He laughed. "Do I gotta show you my driver's license?" Then I laughed, too. We finished the meal with coffee and cigarettes. By then it was almost ten, and I wanted to get going. "Are you coming back to my room," I asked him. "If you want me to, I am." "Son, you know what I want, don't you?" "Yes, sir...er, yes, Dan. And I want it, too."