Date: Mon, 29 Sep 2003 03:32:37 -0700 (PDT) From: Michael Garrison Subject: Two Lives - Two Loves: Chapter 12 This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. This story also deals with love and consensual sexual activities between men. If you are not of legal age, reside in an area where viewing such material is illegal, or are offended by such themes, do not read further and leave this site now. The author retains all rights to this story. Reproductions or links to other sites are not allowed without the permission of the author. Two Lives - Two Loves Chapter 12 I felt REALLY good. Relaxed...Supple. Tuesday started as one of those great mornings when you wake up just long enough to take a luxurious stretch, pull the covers up a little higher, curl up and then doze off again for awhile. I loved those kinds of mornings. There were no worries, everything was right with the world, and you knew you didn't have anything pressing to do. Whoa. Wait. That wasn't right. Ron was coming today...well, Ron was coming OVER today; you know what I mean...and we had to get the pool cleaned up for our scuba lesson...if it'd stopped raining, that is. One eye was still buried in the pillow. The other one opened enough to check the clock on the nightstand through the hank of black hair that had fallen down over it. It was a little past 5:00AM. I grumbled a little and half pushed and half slid out of bed, stumbling towards the door to the balcony. Rubbing away some of the sleep that clouded my eyes, I was startled to see a clear, starry sky and what was a bright, almost full moon setting behind the tree line. Still not believing, I went out onto the balcony and held my hand out, feeling for any stray raindrops. Nothing. Excellent. It was about time. Going back inside, I was going to rouse Jon but noticed that his side of the bed was empty. "That's a first," I thought. Normally I had to almost drag him kicking and screaming from bed. The hallway light was on. He must've gone downstairs already. After taking care of my morning urgency, I followed the trail of lights down to the kitchen. I noticed that dive- boy had finally taken his knife off and left it sitting on the island counter...as long as he'd been wearing it, it was probably cutting off his circulation. Speaking of dive- boy, I didn't see him but, oh, thank God, the coffee was already made. I poured myself some and took a sip or two, relishing the almost instantaneous satisfaction of caffeine hitting my system. I took another few sips, the warmth lubricating my throat, and called out... "Yo, Jon! Where you at!?" "Here!" I heard a distant answer, then noticed that the French doors were open. What the hell would he be doing outside in the dark, I wondered...especially without me. I also noticed the entertainment system was still on from where we'd left it last night, that blue screen casting an odd glow over everything. I scooped up the remote from the sofa and pressed the macro button to shut it all down. Setting it on the island counter, I went outside and saw the pool lights were on. I could see Jon in silhouette futzing around with something by the edge. That sleek outline of his was the kind of vision I didn't mind having. "Mornin'," I called out. "'S'up, dude! How'd you sleep?" he answered. "Awesome," I said, letting my morning eyes play over him, standing there in just his shorts and his Topsiders. The undulating reflection of the pool lights on his pecs and his face was almost too inviting, even if I wasn't totally awake yet. "I didn't hear you get up. You showered already?" "Yeah, I tried to be quiet. You didn't budge at all. You must've been really zonked," he said. "Anyway, I thought I'd let you sleep for a change; you felt like you needed it." "Thanks, bro; I did...big time," I said, looking at the contraption and the mess of tubing he was fiddling with. "What is all this?" "I call it the Sniffer-Snoofer," he grinned. "The who?" I asked. It was just a little too early for Jon to be so cutesy. "The Sniffer-Snoofer," he repeated, his grin widening. He stopped, knowing that I was burning with curiosity. Jon loved these childish little petty tortures of his every now and then. He was obviously feeling really good after last night, too. "Okay," I said, not wanting to prolong my agony as I took another sip of coffee, "...I'll bite. What's a...Sniffer- Snoofer?" I sniffed with facetious arrogance. Oh, he was in his own little comedy heaven now that I'd taken the bait. My resistance to his quirky sense of humor was a little low until I'd finished at least my first cup of coffee, but I enjoyed his smile, even if it was kind of at my expense. "You'll be happy to know that it's an automatic pool cleaner," he said. An automatic pool cleaner...cool...didn't hurt my feelings one bit. "What's it do?" "It's got a little motor that pushes it all around the pool, sucking up all the junk as it goes," he said as he dropped the thing in the water. It made a jet-like gurgling as it sucked in some water and headed for the bottom. "Cool," I said, pleasantly surprised. "It just kind of meanders around and should have it all clean in three or four hours," he continued. "All we have to do is check to clean any leaves or junk out of the drains and traps." "Excellent! I'm glad I've got a boyfriend who thinks of this stuff," I said as I leaned in to give him a long morning kiss, his hands resting on my hips. "Mmm," he muttered. "Thank my uncle; it's his stuff. Why don't you go get showered while I start on some breakfast." "Cool," I said, planting my mouth on his again. "...and be sure to use some mouthwash this time!" he said, grinning, mocking me. I smirked and handed him my coffee cup. "Here, funny man...careful where you stick that," I said as I turned to head back upstairs, trying not to grin. * * * * That shower was amazing. I was starting to get used to its different settings but my favorite was just a deluge from both sides. Right now, I was just letting it stream over my backside, as hot as I could take it. My butt was a little sore from our uncharacteristically vigorous workout last night and the hot water really helped soothe the slight dull aching. I had to get back to swimming regularly, that's all there was to it. I'm sure Jon had to be a little sore, too, but if he was, he wasn't letting on. I finished up, shaved and started to get dressed. I went to put on Jon's jersey but something caught my nose and a quick sniff told me that it needed some time in the washing machine. I tossed it in the corner where a pile of spent towels was starting to turn into a science project and pulled on an A&F tee instead. I'd have to see if Jon could get me a spare one of his jerseys for when laundry day rolled around. I was just finishing tying my sneakers when the smell of sausage wafted up my nostrils. Dear God...thank you for Jon. I rounded the corner going into the kitchen and saw that Jon had quite a little operation going...Muffins in the toaster, sausages sizzling slowly away on the stove, a collection of eggs ready for frying, juice already out, TV blaring away. He hadn't heard or noticed me and I couldn't resist the temptation of sneaking up behind him and swiftly grabbing him around the waist... "Will you marry me?" I whispered quickly as I grabbed him, planting a kiss on his neck. He gasped like I couldn't recall, other than in bed, that is, and I thought he was going to jump straight out of his skin. "Dammit, give a guy a heart attack, why don't ya!" he yelled excitedly as he pushed at me. I couldn't help but laugh at having gotten him. "Fag!" he said, smiling at knowing he'd been gotten. "Queer," I replied, grinning, accepting his surrender. "Truce?" "Always." "Smells great; I'm starved!" "Good, it'll be ready in a few minutes. Do me a favor and take care of the muffins while I do these eggs." I got my part of the work done while Jon assembled the rest and we sat down to wolf it down. We'd burned a lot of calories last night and the food slid down easily. We just ate in silence for a while as the sky became lighter and lighter, revealing what looked like the beginnings of a gorgeous day. "Looks like Ron was right," I said. "I think the weather's gonna be perfect today." "Don't hold your breath," Jon said. "While you were upstairs, the local weather dude said this isn't gonna last. They're expecting it to pick up again after lunch sometime." "Well... somethin's better than nothin', I guess," I said. Jon nodded as he quaffed more juice. "I'm sure the pool's gonna be pretty cold, too, what with all the rain." "I thought it was heated," I said. "Yeah it is, but the heater's not on all the time...the gas bill'd be through the roof. I switched it on this morning but it's gonna take more'na few hours to get toasty again, like I know you like," he winked. "Hmm, well, guess we'll just have to tough it out...shrinkage and all," I quipped. "We've gotta do some straightening up around here, too," Jon said. "I don't want Ron thinking we're a couple of pigs." "Yeah, that pile of towels upstairs is turnin' into a lower life form. So where do you wanna start?" "Let's just put the laundry downstairs for now; we'll do that later," he said. "Make the bed, throw our stuff into the drawers somewhere so it's out of sight..." I was glad to see that Jon was a practical housekeeper. "...and that trash basket." "Which?" I asked. "You know which..." he looked at me incredulously. "...the one next to the bed with your spent condoms piling up in it." "Oh, man...no," I said. "We gotta see how long it takes us to make it overflow!" I joked. "Dude, that thing's getting nasty... the EPA's gonna send the guys in the radiation suits after it," he chided. "Besides, he'll see that can full of cum and then he'll know we're gay." "C'mon, man," I pleaded, only half kidding, "...it gives the place ambience." Even though my huge toothy grin plainly told Jon I was kidding, he was plainly not amused. What he needed right then was a pair of glasses so he could look sternly at me over the tops of the frames, like some old maiden aunt who disapproved of everything. For a moment or two he didn't say a word, he just stared...a trick he'd picked up from me. "Yeah, Okay fine," I finally said. "I guess we don't want to be too obvious." "Thank you," Jon said. "What're you worried about, anyway," I asked. "He probably already does think we're gay." "I dunno," he said. "I'm still not ready for the world to know just yet. Unless, maybe, he's gay, too...you think he's gay?" I kind of chilled for a second, trying to listen for the little answer-man in my head that popped up from time to time. It was funny how I was starting to get used to listening for and listening to that little voice. Maybe it was just that I was getting older and more accustomed to it. Then I heard it faintly; well, it wasn't so much a voice as it was a feeling that told me... "I'm getting the same sort of feel from him that I got from you." "Which?" "That he's gay but won't admit it to himself...that he maybe just needs the right environment to come out...one where he feels like he's not gonna be dragged behind a car if someone found out he was gay. I think that's where we come in." "How?" Jon asked. "Well, I figured we'd tie him up down in the basement and do him 'til we're dry...that oughta 'bout do it!" I said, straight-faced at first, then breaking out into a laugh. Jon flung his napkin in my face with a slight smirk. I wasn't sure I was seeing what I thought I was seeing, but I could swear I almost saw a little jealousy forming at the corner of his mouth. "Get serious," he said. It took me a moment to stop laughing at my own joke. "Hey, you didn't think havin' him over was a bad idea yesterday," I reminded him. "As I recall, you seemed majorly with that." "Well...," Jon hemmed and hawed a little, "...yeah, but I was only thinking that it'd be nice to get to know some other guys around here if we're gonna be here all summer," he began. "He seems like a really cool guy ...'course, the fact that he's pretty hot looking doesn't hurt." "No argument from me," I agreed. "A little eye-candy does a guy wonders." I could still sense that little bit of green foam at the corner of Jon's mouth. I'd never seen or sensed it in him before at all. Of course, we'd never been in a situation like this before but I felt like I'd better address it now...nip it in the bud before it took firm root. Laying my feelings out there was not something I liked to do but there were times when I just had to. We were pretty much done and Jon was starting to clear the plates. I quickly put a hand on top of his and looked him dead, and with all seriousness, in those glittering blues of his, "But there's something I want you to know," I began. He froze and stared back at me. "As hot lookin' as Ron is or as any other guy might be, as far as I'm concerned, you're it for me, Jon." I noticed that his eyes were starting to glaze a bit. "There is no other and there won't be any other; do you understand?" I said, slowly. "Yeah," he said softly, nodding, not wanting to say much more than that. He knew that I knew he'd lose it if he said much more. I could feel him trembling, just a little but noticeable to my touch. I made him set the plates down as I stood up to hug him. "I love you, baby...," I whispered. I could feel him tremble just the faintest little bit, broken by the slight pulse and sound of his labored nasal breathing. I knew he was trying very hard to maintain his personal control. "...and that's all there is to it." I let my hands play slowly and reassuringly over his back, and I felt him do the same in return. "Please don't ever leave me," he asked, finally having mustered the control to say. "Never, baby," I calmed him. "I'll never leave you," I said as I kissed him on the forehead. There it was again. That was the second time that Jon had asked that of me. The first time after that excellent shower when he'd...oh, how shall I say this... attended?... attended ...yeah, that's a good word...to us so well, and then just now. Asking me...no, it had more the feel of near pleading with me not to leave him...words that just fell out of his mouth. That plea felt so odd to me for some reason and I couldn't nail it down. It was like some deep-seated fear just somehow bubbled to the surface every now and then when conditions were just right, or wrong, maybe, depending on how you looked at it. I'd tried sensing what it was, but it was like trying to grab smoke. Jon had a lot of walls built around him, nearly as many as I did. And it made no sense to me...at all. Here was a guy who had everything in life working on his side: good family, money to burn, good...no, make that excellent looks, the sunniest personality I'd ever felt in contrast to my own, somewhat darker countenance. People, especially me, loved being around him because of the excellent energy he radiated, yet here he was with some lurking fear gnawing at him like a rabid dog shaking a bone. My young psychiatrist-to-be had something really eating at him, but I wasn't ready to suggest that he, himself, see a shrink. I wanted to help him so badly but I couldn't get my arms around the problem...yet. For the moment, I just settled for keeping my arms around him...our heads nestling. "C'mon," I said, patting his back. "Work session time. Let's start gettin' this place cleaned up a little." * * * * After we got the kitchen squared away, we started upstairs to get the bedroom in order. We just started shoving our clothes into drawers just to get them out of sight for the time being. You know how that works, though; once they were out of sight, they'd be totally out of mind. Organization didn't matter as much as just not having to trip over them. I stowed our bags in a hall closet while Jon made the bed. I hadn't really realized before how handy he could be, domestically speaking. His parents appeared to have done a pretty good job with him. When I came back in the room, Jon was standing with arms crossed next to the latest burr under his saddle...the trash basket. I put on my best, doe-eyed expression of blamelessness and slowly shuffle-stepped over to where he was standing, taking on a comical aspect as I slowly peered over into the wicker basket, as though there was a cobra waiting to strike. Nope...no cobra, just limp latex tubes filled with me. I looked as humorously innocent up at Jon as I could. "Well?" he said, only the faintest trace of a smile on his face. "I'd say they look like condoms," I said, hoping to get him to crack up. That was going to take a bit longer this time, though. When Jon got fixated on a project, the project became all-consuming to him. In this case, the trash was his focus for the moment. "We'll have to get some fresh ones, though; these look used," I said, trying to suppress a laugh. That did it. That got a slight chuckle out of him as I heard him snicker through his nose. "Yeah," he said. "I'd say they'd been very well used," he winked. "Would you mind?" he asked, holding his palm out towards the basket. "Oh, you want ME to dump this?" I said, goading him just a little. "Please," he chuckled back. "I'm gonna take those towels down to the laundry room. Could you grab the other batch after you dump those and follow me down?" My brow furrowed a bit, "'kay, but where IS the laundry room?" "Down in the basement," Jon began as he scooped up an armload of the huge white towels. "It's not a room, really. The machines're around the far side of the room from where my uncle keeps the wine." "Geez," I muttered. "Couldn't he've put it any further away? That's almost like the other side of town," I chided. "Yeah, I know, but it's where the water comes into the house and he didn't want the machines up here. Besides, he's got a woman who comes part-time and does it all for him when he's in town." "Oh, that's nice," I said as Jon ambled out the door with his armload of towels. "Where is she now?" "Working at other jobs, I guess, babe. It's just you and me this summer," I heard him say as he disappeared down the stairs. I dumped the condoms into the plastic bag we'd been tossing stray junk into, tentatively peeling off one or two that just wouldn't let go. I scowled a little at the less than fragrant mess. I decided we'd have to see if we had any liners for this basket. Oh, God! Was that a domestic thought!? Jon was starting to rub off on me. I grabbed the remaining armload of towels and the trash bag and headed downstairs. After dumping the trash and piling up the towels on top of the washer, Jon and I finished straightening things up and did a quick walkaround of the house to see if everything looked okay. Yep, everything looked presentable enough. Not bad for a couple of frat brats, we thought. By then it was closing in on 8:30. "Let's check and see how the pool thing's doin'," I said. "Yeah, it might be done by now." Sure enough, Jon's 'Sniffer-Snoofer' was still jetting happily around the pool and I was amazed to see that it had done a pretty thorough job of tidying things up. Jon went around to check the traps and just pulled out a few stems and twigs here and there, tossing them back onto the lawn. I helped him get the Snoofer thing put away. I looked around. The day couldn't have been any prettier...at least for now, according to the weatherman. "Okay, here's the plan," I started as Jon turned attentively. "Ron'll be here at ten. Dave's opens at nine. Why don't you head over and pick yourself out a nice wetsuit like you wanted, drop the videos off and come on back. In the meantime, I'll get all the gear ready." "Sounds like a plan,"Jon agreed. Jon trotted back in to get his keys, wallet and the videos while I started to go get the dive gear. Not too fast, though; I really liked watching Jon trot...it added just a touch more sunshine to my morning. He disappeared into the house and I turned to get the gear. * * * * Jon had taken off and it hadn't taken me long to get the gear setup next to the pool. It looked like I still had about forty-five minutes to kill before Ron got here so I figured I'd try to get in a little exercise and went up to change into my trunks. I decided on the baggy ones as I'd done that first day with Jon. I didn't want to risk intimidating Ron right away, especially since I wasn't entirely sure what his inclinations were. My little voice was telling me that Ron was definitely gay but guarded; still, I just wasn't entirely sure myself. I kicked off my sandals at the water's edge and knelt down to splash a little on myself, seeing what it was like. Jon was right. The water was really cool but it wasn't so cold that you couldn't get used to it after a minute or two. I wished that heater would work faster, though. At times like that, I usually just dove in, immersed myself as quickly as possible and got the shock out of the way. So I did. The water rushed up and quickly swallowed me as bubbles streamed from my nose. Oh, God, it was cold! I could feel my genitalia almost leap back up inside of my body looking for cover! Breaking the surface, I looked for the far edge and just started swimming for it with steady, deep strokes. My arms and legs bit deeply into the water with a passion. Next to sex, this was the greatest stress reliever, which I really needed considering my dreams lately, and was also the best way to dispel the chill. Before long, I could feel myself warming up, getting accustomed to the temperature. It felt really good to feel my muscles going through their paces again, too. I was starting to feel the effects of not having really worked out for awhile, even if it wasn't that long since I'd last gotten wet. We'd been living pretty well, having been cooped up inside for the past few days and I'm sure Jon could use the workout, too. He didn't know it, but I considered it part of my job to keep his warm little form in form. This was a tough pool to do laps in because of its odd, freeform shape, but I did the best I could. At the far edge, I ducked under and twisted around bringing my feet up just at the wall to make the turn like I'd been taught as a kid. Making that turn felt really good, too. It always had a very slight disorienting effect for just a split second that I'd always thought was a little bit intoxicating. I had to swerve a little around where the wall turned to form the 'S' but it wasn't too bad. I went back and forth like that for a while, getting nicely warmed and getting back some tone. It seemed like almost no time had passed since I started my laps before it felt like it was nearing time for Ron to arrive. I needed a little time to get set for him so pulled I myself out of the water and started giving myself a good going over with the towel. I checked my watch. It was about five 'til ten when I heard a car coming up the drive. "Hmm, bit of an early bird," I thought. That was cool, though. I preferred people who were a little bit early to those who were habitually late. It showed that they had respect for your time as well as their own. I dried myself off as quickly as I could then slipped on my sandals and headed towards the house. My baggies were still dripping a little so I wrapped the towel around my waist, trying not to mess up the floor too bad. Heaven forbid. Jon might have a fit. He could be a little prissy about stuff like that so I tried to accommodate him. Believe me when I tell you that there is hardly a sight on the face of this earth that's more annoying and pathetic than a whiny jock. Because, you see, whiny and jock are words that don't go together; the phrase is paradoxical, they're like opposing magnetic poles. Mind you, Jon didn't whine very often, but when he did it grated on my nerves and sensibilities like fingernails on a chalkboard. It was usually easier just to do what he wanted and have done with it rather than to argue about it. Every now and then, though, when I was in the mood, I have to admit that I did find it amusing to do something just to get him to whine...that was entirely different than when he'd catch me doing something; that was pure entertainment for my part. I heard the front doorbell ring just as I entered the kitchen. I was still glistening with dampness a little as I opened the oversized oak door. There stood six nice looking feet worth of smiling, dark haired, brown-eyed, waiter-guy. No, I take that back.make that six REALLY nice looking feet worth of smiling, dark haired, brown-eyed, waiter-guy. And there I was looking like something a notch above a drowned rat. The breeze coming through the door sent a chill through me that made my pecs twitch involuntarily...just for a quick second. I noticed Ron's eyes flicker down to the twitch in my chest...just for a quick second. * * * * To Be Continued * * * *