30 September 2004
Greetings, everyone. It's almost Friday, so hang in there.
Of course, by the time you read this, it probably already is. I
hope everything is going well with everyone and I wanted to thank those
who wrote about the last couple of chapters. I'm glad they were
well received. As always, if you
feel like you have any comments, don't be bashful about dropping an
On a more somber note: To all of our friends in the Gulf region,
but Florida in particular, I'm sure I speak for a great many in
offering our prayers and hopes for your quick recovery from what has
been an unusually active hurricane season. But I would also
caution that the season doesn't end for two more months, and...
it's probably best that I just leave it at that for now. Let me
just say that you should take some time to consider your options.
Forewarned is forearmed.
Kindest regards. Stay safe.
Now where were we? Oh, yes.......
This story is a work of
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
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.
Lives – Two Loves
“Please tell me we’re in one of your weird dreams, ‘cuz,
right now, that would make more sense to me than what I’m looking at.”
“We’re not,” I said, hopping out of the truck to inspect the
“How do you know? You
didn’t know before!”
“I just know, all right!
It doesn’t feel the same,” I said, reacting to his rising
tension. I had to get a grip.
“I mean, the Fire Department was here this morning,
I wasn’t just dreaming it,
This yammering-on of his had to stop. I turned and grabbed Jon
around the waist, pulling him in
close. I don’t know how I knew, but it
was like I thought he’d be okay if I could just bleed off some of that
nervousness I felt oozing off of him like cheap aftershave.
He began to calm down and I felt his arms wrap around my
back, rubbing me.
“Hey,” I whispered, nosing his face up to mine. He
turned and our mouths met. Tenderly at
first, then I felt his fears
vanish in a winking flash and it was like a floodgate opened.
We crushed our mouths and bodies together like we hadn’t
seen each other in years. Jon ground
himself against me with every ounce of strength I think he had as I ran
hands down his back, to his butt. It was
like we were picking up where we left off in the back room of the
trailer. Our fevers rose quickly, too
pulled away and grabbed his hand. The
foreplay part of the program was definitely over.
“C’mon,” I said, fumbling with the key to the front door.
Why is it that a key never wants to work right just when you
really need it to?
Formalities were right out the window, which is where our
clothes would’ve gone if the French doors hadn’t been closed.
We yanked back the sheets and nearly collided as we jumped
into bed. Jon reached over to the bed
table and handed me the lube like he was passing the baton in a relay
He lay down. arched his back and I got him ready, maybe not
my best job, but we weren’t scoring, so to speak. I
smiled, watching his sparkling blues eyes
as he pulled a fresh condom out of the box, ripping it partially open
teeth and spitting the shard aside.
“Yo, babe; sometime while we’re young, ‘kay?” I needled him
to go faster as I kneeled between his legs.
His flair for the dramatic aside, he hadn’t fully broken the
“Keep your pants on,” he said as he struggled with the
stubborn little package. “No, forget I
said that. The pants definitely stay
“No argument here.”
He fiddled with it a bit more before finally getting
exasperated. “Oh, fuck it!” he said,
unceremoniously ripping the pack nearly in two, allowing the condom to
Our hands shook like it was our first time, like our parents
could get home any minute and catch us. Jon
rolled it down over me, smoothing it, making sure it was tight before
nestled himself in the bedding and wrapped his legs around me.
He reached for my shoulder, pulling me down
on top of him. He didn’t need to; I was
almost ready to pounce, anyway.
I wormed my arms around his back as we kissed. He
inched his butt up higher, giving me my
angle, and he gripped me, guiding me. I
felt myself at his entry and pushed steadily in. Jon
gasped and dug his fingers into my back.
We needed each other badly and he didn’t protest when I
didn’t start right away, just holding us there for a moment, embracing
hard as I could, and he me. We both
sighed softly. It felt so good having
the warmth of his whole body wrapped around me, holding me tightly in
way. I loved feeling him in my arms,
realizing how good it felt to be alive, to be together, to join more
“You okay?” I whispered.
Jon nodded and let his eyes fall shut.
I couldn’t keep from staring at the serene, handsome face
belonging to the person I was deeply in love with.
I felt his hands and legs on my backside,
urging me on.
The morning had been strenuous for both of us. Jon
and I were totally stressed and
fatigued. We were totally drained;
twice, if you really want to know, and had fallen asleep.
I’m not complaining, mind you. We
both needed it badly.
Being a history major, I have to confess that I’m really not
up on the intricacies of male physiology.
I’ve got the broad-brush stuff down pat, but beyond that, I’m
lost. I mean, what is about guys that
unusually stressed out or after engaging in some heavy-duty, oh, let’s
‘contact sports’, our heads immediately seek out the nearest pillow?
And God help the person who stands between us
and that pillow when we get that way.
That’s nearly as dangerous as getting between a politician and a
you just don’t do it if you value your life.
But I didn’t sleep too long; I never do. I
woke up first, as usual. Jon, as usual,
was still almost surgically
attached to his pillow. I’m convinced he
could sleep through a train wreck. I
felt his arm draped across my hip, his legs still entwined with mine.
I glanced up at the clock.
We were closing in on three.
I’d been dead to the world, lights completely out, gone, for
less than an hour but I felt like a million dollars.
No, better make that ten; nobody would waste
the time to even by a measly million dollar lottery ticket anymore and
I felt a
hell of a lot better than that. I’d
dreamt like crazy, but it wasn’t one of the house dreams.
It was just image after image after image,
flying by in front of my eyes. Then my
eyes opened to the image right in front of my nose.
It was a beautiful way to wake up.
His hair was in that sexy state of disarray that I loved, still
matted from his sweating. I brushed a
bit of it gently back out of his eyes, onto his forehead where it
at least where I liked it. I let my hand
caress his square jaw and down his neck. His
breathing lost its rhythm for the briefest
fraction of a second, his dark blond eyebrows furrowed and he swallowed.
His smooth legs squirmed the barest fraction
of an inch between mine. There was
something just so incredibly hot about watching, and feeling, his
reaction. He knew I was there but still
didn’t wake up. I smiled, wondering if I
was becoming part of his dream.
My hand found its way over the expanse of his shoulder,
gliding around his arm to find his solid lats, touching lightly but
appreciation. Swimming had made my tall
frame tight and lean, but his years of football and weight training, to
nothing of just flat-out good genes, had turned him into solid rock.
My own little blond, bronzed god.
And pardon me if I get too effusive, it’s
just how I feel about him.
Carefully, I maneuvered my other arm under his neck, resting
my head on my shoulder, our noses almost touching.
He stopped that light snoring he sometimes
did, thank God, and I lay there for a few minutes, listening to him
breathe. For me, at that moment, there
was nothing I would’ve traded for that peaceful sound; it was as
holding a purring cat.
Gently, I slid my hand between our abs, grinning again when
I found that he was dreaming about
me, or at least it’d better be me,
and I closed my hand around us, beginning a slow massage.
His mouth opened slightly wider and the
rhythm of his breathing changed again, not stopping, not panting,
between. Twice, he stopped, quickly
taking in a strong lungful of air, letting it out slowly each time.
I continued, notching up my pace just a
bit. On the third time, Jon inhaled so
hard that he shook himself awake, gasping as his eyes opened wide,
figure out what was going on, then settling back when he realized.
I stopped, waiting for his reaction.
His entire body vibrated like a tuning fork from an intense,
but unexpansive stretch. Reclining, his
eyes closed back to relaxed slits of white for a moment before
their familiar blue. With an easy
self-assurance, he pulled my mouth to his for a leisurely, seductive
kiss. Then I felt his other hand on mine.
“Don’t stop on my account,” he mumbled in his soft, slurred
“We’re running out of clean sheets,” I grinned.
“Fuck it,” he mumbled again, his eyes closing. “…gotta
do laundry anyway.”
Jon draped his leg across my hip; we didn’t talk for a while
First load’s in the dryer,” Jon said, emerging from the
basement. “What time is it, anyway?”
“Little after four,” I said glancing at my watch. “Ron’ll
probably be here soon; Hunter’s due
“Your firefighter?” Jon asked, giving me a sideways glance.
“C’mon, now. Be
nice,” I said. “He was interested in the
house and seemed like a really cool guy, you know.”
“And you think he’ll hit it off with Ron becaaaaaaaause?” he
drawled, leading me on.
“Becaaaaaaaause,” I mimicked, “I don’t care what Ron says,
“And what makes you think…what’d he say his name is?
“Hunter,” I nodded.
“And what makes you think Hunter’s gay?” Jon asked, handing
me a beer out of the fridge.
“Oh, trust me; he’s gay.
Both of ‘em are. Ron’s just in
deep denial, is all,” I nodded.
“So, let me see if I’ve got this straight, if you’ll pardon
the pun. Hunter wants to see a haunted
house, so you think he’s gay; and, Ron says he’s straight, but you’re
he’s not. Is that about it?”
“It’s all in the eyes, m’boy,” I said, thumbing an invisible
pair of suspenders as I cracked on Jon with a half-assed W.C. Fields
impersonation. Jon just sniffed and
smiled weakly. “And remember who you’re
talking to. I’m stronger than I know, if
“You know,” Jon began, plunking his beer on the
counter. “Of all people, you shouldn’t
make fun of that.”
I recoiled slightly at the sudden edge in his voice.
“Personally, I’m still not convinced that Alicia’s about
half bullshit about the house, but, I’ll tell you, I think she’s right
one thing. You’ve got a gift.
I don’t understand it…,”
My eyes got wider with confusion as I listened to Jon,
suddenly so passionate. He had a nice
sized little burr under his saddle about something but I figured it’d
be best just to shut up now that he had a roll going.
“…and probably never will.
I don’t have to. What I do
understand is that you can see
things…have for as long as I’ve known you.
I think we both know where we’d be right now if it weren’t for
ability. You admitted it yourself, but
it’s like you really don’t want to own up to it, except for some crap
this,” he continued, thrusting his hand sharply over his head in
exasperation. “…and then you toss it off
like a joke! Do you
realize how many people’d kill to be
able to do what you do? Brad, I…”
Jon was working himself into a froth, but he was right.
He was always right. I understood
now what Alicia meant about two
halves of the same coin. Jon was my
conscience, and I also knew there was more to his speech than just
straight. I set my beer down and went to
him and wrapped my arms around his back. I
gently kissed his neck and pulled him tight.
“…I…have to apologize.
Brad, I’ve never been so fucking scared in my entire life,” he
There it was.
“You weren’t alone, bro,” I whispered in his ear.
“I was pissing my wetsuit and kissing my ass goodbye,” he
said. “I just knew we were dead,
man. If you hadn’t…”
“Hey,” I said quietly.
“We’re okay now. It’s all right;
you don’t have to say anything.” Jon
laughed when I pointed out that at least he hadn’t taken a dump in his
wetsuit. That would’ve been just too
gross for words.
We bearhugged as hard as we could. He
groaned and then turned on me, laughing as
he flipped me around into a headlock. I
flailed as he rapped my skull with his knuckles.
“Promise me you’re not gonna waste your gift on bullshit
anymore,” he said. “Promise.
Promise or I won’t let you go!”
“I promise, Master! I
promise!” What else could I say?
Jon might be shorter than me but he was no
weakling by any stretch of the imagination.
Drama queen? Absolutely no doubt
about it, he could cry faster than any guy I knew; but, don’t try going
toe with him if his blood was up, except maybe horizontally.
We both knew that.
He let me go and I massaged my scalp as we caught our
“Go answer the door,” I said.
the chimes from the entry.
I just shrugged and smiled at him. “You
know, like, what can I say?”
“Asshole,” Jon muttered under his breath.
“Truce,” I echoed.
“Be nice. Act casual.”
“I’m telling the girls back at school you’re secretly
worried about being gay,” he threatened.
“You know how they love a challenge.”
“Oh, hey; fuck you very much,” I said, laughing at his
double take. It’d taken him a few
seconds to catch the wordplay. “Get the
“Hey, man!” came Ron’s familiar voice as he tossed his small
gym bag next to the kitchen table.
“Well, hey, Chipmunk!” I called back. “What’s
Ron flushed slightly at my use of the pet name Alicia had
bestowed on him. Jon grinned at his
reaction, but was a little sorry that he hadn’t thought to needle him
“It’s Friday and I’m off for the weekend; that’s what’s
going on!” he chirped. “So what’s on tap
“Well, first off, you’re about a half a beer behind,” Jon
said as he cracked one open and handed it over.
“You’re an officer and a gentleman,” Ron winked, downing
half the bottle in one draw, then wiping his mouth with the side of his
hand. “Damn, that’s good stuff.”
“Geez, dude; don’t get loaded before company gets here,” Jon
said. I chose not to remind Jon of his
own drinking. He’d had a rough morning,
so he’d get a pass tonight; well, if he behaved. I’d
start bitching at him tomorrow.
“Oh, yeah, you mentioned that before,” Ron said. “Who
is this guy again?”
Jon hopped up on the island counter, took another pull at
his beer and recapped the morning headlines.
I filled in at the end.
“…so I told him to pack a bag for the night and come see for
“Oh, this should be interesting,” Ron said. “You
tell him anything yet?”
“Nope, he had to get going with the rest of his guys.
I figured we’d fill him in over dinner then
we’d just hang out and see what happens,” I said.
“So what if nothing happens?” Jon asked. “It’s
not like Old Faithful, you know.”
“Then we just get nice and crispy and watch flicks,” I
said. “No harm, no foul.
Nobody’s drivin’ tonight, anyway, so what the
“Sounds good to me,” Ron said.
I glanced at my watch again.
“Say, look, if you guys want to go hit the pool, go ahead.
I’ve gotta finish cleaning up this mess from
this morning,” I said, pointing to the kitchen sink and the remainder
breakfast debris. “I’ll let Hunter in
when he gets here.”
Jon put Ron in the room next to ours and then went to go
change into a fresh pair of trunks. It
didn’t take them long; I heard the splashing and yelling coming from
as I tended to the dishes.
The other part of my self-imposed penance for the morning mess
was to keep the endless procession of laundry going from the basket to
washer to the dryer to the basket. I
hate laundry. It didn’t seem like a lot
at the time, but it looked like a small mountain now.
And the towels! Christ!
How many towels had we gone through?
It felt like the towels were taking up more room than the house
did! I was just starting the next load
in the dryer when I heard the doorbell ring.
A little after five. Not bad, I
I must’ve looked like some old, gamey washerwoman when I
opened the door. Hunter did not.
He didn’t look much older than me, probably closer to Ron’s
age, and about my height, six-one, six-two, give or take.
His helmet had hidden the thatch of black
hair over those gray-green eyes of his.
I’d always heard that firefighters had a demanding physical
regimen. Not just because the job itself
was stressful but so that they could literally carry people of any
size out of harm’s way if they needed to.
Hunter was obviously a strict adherent to this regimen.
His firefighting gear had completely hidden
the broad chest and shoulders now wearing the dark blue tee-shirt with
white, silkscreened firefighter’s cross on it.
It tapered down, blousing out around the waist of his jeans.
I didn’t want to seem obvious and made a
point of looking him straight in the eye, letting my peripheral vision
inspection. It was difficult, though.
“Hi, Brad. Remember
me?” he said extending his hand.
Hey, Hunter,” I beamed.
“How could I forget! C’mon in.”
Hunter came in, bag in hand and turned to inspect the
window. “Wow. That
was fast work,” he said. “You’d never know
anything happened. Who fixed it for you?”
“Nobody,” I said.
Hunter turned and looked at me, puzzled.
“No, really,” he said, not getting it yet.
“I’m serious,” I said.
“Jon and I came home after lunch and just found it this way.”
“Then who,” he began, stopping in mid sentence as he ran his
hands over the woodwork again.
“Dunno,” I shrugged.
“You sure you wanna stick around to find out?” I asked.
He paused and straightened up.
“That’s why I’m here,” he said, bristling just a bit at the
thought that he might duck out now before anything really happened,
“Awesome,” I said. “Then let’s get you a beer; the party’s
already started without you.”
“Hey, speaking of which” he said, unzipping his bag and
handing me a six of some obscure but interesting looking microbrew.
“I didn’t want to come empty handed.”
“Well, aren’t you just the gentleman,” I smiled. “Lemme
stick this in the fridge and I’ll give
you the five-cent tour.”
We started upstairs and dropped his bag in the room next to
where Jon had put Ron. I wanted to just
put him in the same room as Ron but thought, naaah, that’d be pushing
too much. I gave him the story of how we
were just house-sitting for Jon’s uncle, showed him around, gave him
history I could remember as we walked downstairs. He
stopped and studied almost every painting,
smiling in amazement and appreciation.
“Man, I really wish I could do stuff like this,” he said.
“Yeah, room’s mostly,” he laughed. A dry
sense of humor, too. He and Ron should do
okay. “I do a little of it now and then.
It’s a good way to relax, but I don’t have
much of a hand for it.”
I showed him around the rest of the first floor. He
was a lot more relaxed than he’d been in
the morning. He was also suitably
impressed with the entertainment system.
“Whoa! I want one!”
he said as he ran his hand over the TV.
“Picture as good as they say on these things?”
“Oh, yeah,” I confirmed.
“We can check it out after dinner.
There’s a good selection of DVD’s, so we shouldn’t be at a loss
something to watch.
After prying him away from the TV, Hunter and I got changed
for the pool snagged a couple of his beers and got a couple more for
Ron. I was hoping against hope that he’d
brought a Speedo with him. No such luck.
Just your average pair of beach trunks.
They’d have to do and I’m sure Ron wouldn’t
turn his nose up at the rest of the smooth package they left exposed.
The guys had opted for the hot tub instead of the pool.
It was still a little on the tepid side but
was heating up nicely. I’d made sure to
pay particular attention to Ron’s eyes as we came out to join them.
I was not disappointed. Ron
was trying his best just to act
engagingly pleasant and cordial, like he would for any customer in the
restaurant, but his eyes said more. He
tried to maintain eye contact with Hunter, especially as they shook
greetings, but if there was such a thing as heat-ray vision, Hunter’s
would’ve been a pile of ashes. I
couldn’t see Hunter’s eyes as we stepped down into the tub.
I can only assume he wasn’t repulsed by what
he saw. I was going to suggest that he
sit next to Ron while I took my place with Jon, but he quickly found
Ron’s excitement was almost palpable. I
don’t care what Jon said, Ron was
definitely gay but was afraid to admit it.
I knew it with absolute certainty that morning after Jon had
while he was plastered out of his gourd when he made that comment about
tasting pretty good. He tossed it out
like an off-handed joke but it spoke volumes to me.
Problem was, he obviously didn’t feel
comfortable enough to come out to anybody, not even us, and he knew we
gay. He had to know we’d be nothing but
supportive of him. I figured maybe it
was because we were probably the only two gay guys he knew and he was
rejection or something, afraid he end up being a pariah with no
boyfriend. So instead, he chose to tiptoe
periphery of being gay, kind of sticking his toe in the water but not
a swim. This was a soul looking for
help; inwardly sulking behind the veil of smiles. I
just couldn’t let it go.
Then along came Hunter.
My small voice said ‘Ron’ the moment I looked into the eyes
of the younger firefighter that morning.
He was like an open book to me, and it was just like that, too.
It was like opening an encyclopedia and
almost everything you wanted to know about something, and I was amazed
I was seeing play out on the inside of my head.
Frankly, the fact that I was seeing it at all was amazing.
Here was a really great looking guy who, by
any standards, should’ve had a million friends following in his wake,
chose the path of a loner. He had tons
of amiable acquaintances, but less than a handful of people he thought
friends, no one special whom he palled around with.
Like Ron, he was pretty guarded and not an
easy read, but I saw enough to let me know with absolute certainty that
done more than just stick his toe in the water; that’s all I’ll say
that. Then something pulled him away and
made him build walls around himself, thick ones. I
was hoping that Ron might be able to scale
those walls and give both of them a little peace.
Go ahead. Call me a
Yenta. Call me arrogant for sticking my
nose into other people’s business. Maybe
there’s even a touch of altruism in there somewhere, but unless you’ve
experienced it, there’s no good way to describe the feeling of
was coming off of those two, particularly Ron.
Once you’ve experienced it, you want to do something about.
It’s a very unpleasant feeling and you
couldn’t count yourself as a compassionate human being if you didn’t at
try to do something, because it’s an emptiness that…I don’t know; I
describe it. Maybe you know what I’m
talking about, anyway. Well, I’d gotten
them to the dance; now all they had to do was see each other across the
if nature was going to take its course, that is.
“…I wasn’t what you’d call a college-minded guy, so my
father just basically told me I was
going in the Navy. That’s where I got
into emergency services. I was on a
carrier in the Gulf for a long time and after I got out, I just came
took up what I knew.”
“Wow!” Ron said.
“That must’ve been pretty exciting!”
“Bet you’ve got some interesting sea stories to tell,” Jon
said. Hunter smiled at that.
“You know the difference between a fairy tale and a sea
story?” he asked. We all grinned and
shook our heads; we knew something cute was coming.
Hunter fought back his own grin as he informed us that, “A
fairy tale starts out ‘Once upon a Time’.
A sea story starts out, ‘Now, this ain’t no shit!’ ”
Ron was taking a gulp of his beer when Hunter delivered the
punch line. We all had another really
good laugh when beer shot out of
Ron’s nose as he guffawed. Hunter leaned
him forward and started slapping him on the back.
“Easy, man!” he said, grinning at the left handed approval
of his anecdote. “Don’t choke or
something. My mouth-to-mouth’s a little
rustier than I’d like to admit.”
‘Interesting,’ I thought.
We settled back and put our feet up as soon as Ron got his
wind back. Things couldn’t have been
better despite all the goings on that morning.
Jon went to get us some fresh beers while we just chit-chatted.
Ron prodded me into retelling the story since
he had to tend to tables and missed some of it.
Hunter already knew the first part, but you could almost hear
chirping when I told them about the quarry; sans sex, of course.
“Jesus,” Ron mumbled.
“Oh, man,” Hunter began.
“I know that place. You’ve gotta
be careful in there; that place’ll fool you.”
“Yeah,” I said. “That
ain’t no shit!” They both laughed at my
play on Hunter’s joke.
“No, I’m serious!”
“You dive?” Jon asked, overhearing the tail end as he
returned with the beers.
“Oh, yeah. It’s part
of my job. I do recovery when they need
it. I do it for fun sometimes, but I
don’t have many friends who dive.
There’s just an older guy at the station and he’s kind of a
jerk, so I
have to take that back. I don’t have any
friends who dive. ”
“So teach me,” Ron said, smiling infectiously. “And
Jon started to say something; I nudged him gently with my
foot to stay quiet.
“Hey, I’ve logged my share of bottom time, but I’m not an
instructor,” Hunter said.
“I don’t care. Teach
me,” Ron repeated.
“Okay,” Hunter nodded quietly, slowly catching Ron’s smile.