Joe and Andrew and Wayne - Part 12
Joe & Andrew on Mindspring mail
Wayne on Mindspring mail

Note to readers: from now until the end of the journal, Wayne is doing the typing for me. You'll know why in a bit. Our habit of sitting in the same chair at the PC continues to grow stronger. He sits down first or slides behind me if I'm at the PC. I lean against him and he holds me close. When I've had enough to typing E-mail, I put my cheek against his. When I'm tired, I turn my face and nuzzle into his neck. He holds me and chats with our friends or sends mail to keep them up to date. When we are together, we hold each other all we can. We thrive on touch and being close.

August 29th -- Sunday morning

I woke around 7:00 and had to throw up again. I found I could not feel my right shoulder. My left hand worked so I could at least throw up in something besides the sink. I slowly realized that I could not feel my arm either, nor my fingers, nor the upper right side of my chest. No pain. No tingling. It was as nothing on my right was there. I turned on the bathroom light. I couldn't see clearly out of my right eye either. It was blurry.

I woke Wayne.

"Bud, I think I need to go see Doc, at the hospital."

"What's wrong?" he said as he got up.

"Take my hand. Is it cold?"

He reached for my hand, then my arm. He could see I was limp.

"No, it's just like it always is. Why?"

"Can't feel anything, chest to fingertips."

I asked him to take me to the hospital. I didn't feel right -- the feeling of fear gripped my throat. Wayne helped me get dressed. I went through all the things in my head that I do with two arms, and being a righty. Dressing, brushing my teeth, showering, (jacking off), holding on to Wayne, touching Joe, driving, and being at my PC endless hours. If I thought about it more I could probably think of a hundred things. It's a two-handed world.

Doc was paged and arrived shortly. He sent me to X-ray for a head and upper chest series. He also called my family doc so he could authorize an MRI and CT scan for me first thing in the morning on Monday.

"Andrew I'll need to draw some spinal fluid as well. Let's go down the hall."

I looked back at Wayne. He stood there and nodded, telling me he'd be all right. Doc told him we'd be back in a little bit. He headed for a seat in the corner of the lobby. When we were done, I told Doc I wanted Wayne to come in to the office too, so we could talk. He said it was okay, so I went out to get him.

"So what's with the disappearance of my right side?" I asked as I stood back by the window.

"I don't know. The X-rays don't show me much. I don't really want to guess."

"I do. Speculate. You must have theory."

"Andrew ..."

I put my hand up. I hadn't known Doc a long time, but I wanted to believe in him. Wayne did.

"No holding out on me. Wayne and you have been doc/patient and friends for almost ten years now. He trusts you. I came to you when I first got sick for that reason. You haven't let me down yet. Don't start now, man."

He looked at me. He wanted no part of speculation. I did. Something was better than nothing.

"Doc. Please talk to us," said Wayne. "Speculation is just that, but you do have that much."

"I think there are cancer cells in your brain, letting part of it misfire. The spinal fluid I drew a while ago shows more cells than you had even on Wednesday."

He hadn't told us anything we didn't already know. He validated our thoughts.

"Thanks for being honest with me. Knowing what the tumor is doing on my spine led me to think that it could eventually hit my brain. It's got a direct path."

"Andrew, have hope," he said.

"My hope is sitting in front of you, Doc. He believes. You're doing good by me so don't feel unappreciated, ever."

He gave me a cloth sling to put my arm into. He didn't want me burning it in the kitchen or hitting any nerves that would do more damage.

"Unless I call otherwise, you are the first for MRI and CT scan tomorrow morning. Go home and get some rest, Andrew. You look tired as hell."

We did not rest. We walked. I think we must have walked a thousand miles this week alone. When we came home we lay on the sofa together. I took off my shirt and Wayne put his head on my chest. I kissed the top of his head and put my arm around his shoulder.

"I have to tell Joe about this, Wayne. I want him to know."

"I can take you if you want to go now, bud."

I thought about it. I nodded. When we got there I asked him to come in too. I wasn't going to spend the day. I just wanted to spend an hour with my love. My schedule was so irregular with him now that he probably wondered if I cared any more. I did, but I guess I needed to prove it. I lay beside him on the bed and kissed him as best I could.

"Joe, I'm waiting for you my love. I could use your help. You know how to fight the cancer and I'm stumbling. Come back to me, love. The cancer might be moving into my brain. How do I fight this?"

I waited for an answer that would not come, at least not today. Maybe I had planted the seed in his mind that I didn't just want him back. I needed him back. Wayne is a strong man, but he too needs some help in encouraging me along. There was no way I could put the burden on his shoulders alone. Wayne and I sat with Joe, watching him sleep, hoping he was not in pain.

Back at home, I fell asleep around 1:00 on the sofa. Wayne says he finally got up, when I went to sleep, so as not to disturb me. He sat at my PC and stared at me. He helped me send out a group mail to our friends and readers in the late afternoon. Because the weather was nice, we would go out and watch the moon and stars later. I had an idea that we wanted to share with our E-mail friends, so Wayne helped set it up. We got amazing responses back in E-mail all evening.

At 11:00 p.m. we went outside and walked around Joe's neighborhood. We had asked our friends and readers to join us, to help us all feel closer, to feel a connection. Across the world, the sky was our common connection so we wanted to see it at the same time. I needed them to be with us. The moon had risen only about an hour before because it was not far above the horizon. It had been full three or four days previously, and was now waning. It was still bright enough that it washed out all the stars in that part of the sky. The scent of flowers was carried on the breeze -- sweet, sharp, mostly unidentifiable to my nose but nice nonetheless. The crickets and frogs were loud, stunningly so. There were barely any other sounds to be heard. The street lamps in the neighborhood were distracting. Wayne's place had fewer so after walking an hour up and down quiet side streets, we went back inside Joe's place long enough to get two sweatshirts. The air was cooling quickly and if we wanted to stay out, we needed warmth.

Farm pasture bordered Wayne's apartment complex on two sides. We parked in front of his building and headed back for the main road, across the state highway, and up a large hill to the top. We sat near a tree. Wayne sat behind me, tight up against me. His arms wrapped around my chest. He took my right hand and held it. If I did not see him holding it, I would not have known. He didn't care, he just wanted me to know he was okay. He put his head on my left shoulder, which I could feel just fine. He kissed my cheek. I turned my head and kissed his lips gently. He smiled at me and the moonlight sparkled in his eyes.

"I love you my bud."

"Thanks, Wayne. I love you too. This feels awesome."

I lay back into him as he held me up. We stared at the sky, watching an occasional shooting star streak across the wide expanse. Our favorite constellation remained Orion, but it was not in the summer sky. We wouldn't see it until mid to late November.

"Touch me, bud," I said to him.

He slid his hand under my sweatshirt and rubbed my chest, tweaking my nipples a little too. He knew what I meant. I felt it on the left only even though he tweaked both. He slid his hand down to my belly and flattened against it, rubbing slowly from side to side. His hand disappeared inside my jeans as I moved my hips forward so he could get inside. He cupped my balls. I was hard in no time. I looked at him, urging him to touch me more. His fingers wrapped themselves around my dick. I wanted him to; he didn't touch me unless I asked. He didn't have to jack me off. Just holding me the way he was was enough. He ran his fingers along my hardness. I wanted to touch him too, so we lay side by side on our backs for awhile. He put his hand back inside my jeans and I reached into his. He stroked lightly, teasingly. In fifteen minutes time we each came inside our jeans. His warmth spilled over my hand and my cream filled my pants. We wiped our hands off and held each other.

We came in around 3:00 a.m. after four hours feeling connected to our US friends who had seen our message to be with us. He took me to bed by 4:00, after writing more mail.

My appointments for my test turned out to be later in the a.m. I had an MRI at 10:30 and then the CT scan at 12:30. I stayed home from work on doctor's orders. I would go in on Wednesday again because I had a Microsoft Excel class to teach for three days. Wayne went in for a half day at 2:00 and E-mailed me once he got home. I went to be with Joe for the evening, having had enough of being away from him.

August 31st -- Tuesday

I was talking to Wayne after work, while we were doing chemo. I found myself turning my head to him so because I was losing some of his words he I looked at him straight on. My hearing was degrading. He talked in my left ear. I could hear just fine. He talked to me head-on and I missed about half of what he said. He talked in my right ear. I missed most of it. It scared me more. I came home from the hospital with a low-level headache. I wondered if it was chemo-induced because that was one of the first signs of being sick on Tuesday nights. But I was also dealing with nerves scraped raw. Everything bothered me and I seemed to have a hard time not flying off the handle at stupid stuff.

Wayne held me on the sofa. He lay down first and I lay in front of him. I picked up the remote control for the CD player and started a six-set of Celine Dion. Wayne wrapped his arms around me and played with my chest. I dozed off for the night and he left us right there until morning.

September 2nd -- Thursday

MRI and CT scan results came back. Doc found two 'lesions' on my brain. The first was about 2" by 3", down behind my right ear. The second was on the right side of my brain, about 1" by 4". I had to go back to the hospital Friday morning first thing for a biopsy. It would mean more waiting for information. Fuck it, I already knew what the biopsy would show. Intuition told me it was the cancer from my spine. Wayne said it was okay to think that way but that I also must know that whatever it was, it was treatable. He didn't give me false hope and I wouldn't accept any less than he gave me. Mr. "Gotta Believe". He must have said that to me a half dozen times this week. He knew I was scared but he held me anyway and told me he believed I'd be okay.

By Friday, the 3rd of September, my hearing was gone completely in my right ear, and the vision in my right eye down was down about 3/4. Wayne and I talked, for days, about getting away for the Labor Day weekend. I was reluctant to leave Joe for three days. I had spent so little time with him this week that I didn't want to fight all the demons again about giving him nothing. We talked about hanging out at his place since it's been awhile since we had any amount of time there. Going out to my apartment in the country was another alternative. I lived about 45 minutes from either Joe's place or Wayne's place. A lot of folks wonder why I didn't give it up when Joe and I got closer. It's too good to give up. I got 1100 square feet, an oversized bedroom (which itself is 18 by 18 foot square) two baths, washer/dryer, large kitchen, tremendous neighborhood, and it's out in the country -- Joe's and my escape from the city. Paying rent to my dad is a small trade off for some day owning the property.

September 4th -- Saturday

I know that some of you are not going to approve of this next section in the least. Please read it anyway, completely. You can judge us if that's what you think is best. Wayne and I are going to try to tell honestly what we feel about this, so please listen to us both. We don't make apologies and only rarely do we seek approval. This is who we are, for better or worse -- and why. Please speak your mind to us, whatever you feel.

I decided not to compromise on the weekend away. I trusted the nurses 100%. They too had said that I was too battle weary to spend a three day weekend at the hospital, knowing that Wayne would be alone too. There was no fairness in that. He deserved a vacation too. It was time to put my anxiety aside. Joe would be fine. I would NOT be fine if I didn't give myself some time to rest with a complete change of scenery. An E-mail earlier in the week to friends told me the same thing -- go away and renew yourself; live for yourself too. You've done plenty for Joe and you will come back and do more. So, I listened.

Wayne and I headed for the Pocono Mountains in northeastern Pennsylvania on Saturday afternoon. It would be a two to two and a half hour drive. My Ford Explorer was loaded for bear -- tent, two sleeping bags, snack stuff, radio, several changes of clothes, pager, laptop, and lantern. The weather did not promise a sunny weekend, but that also meant it would not be unbearably hot. Driving was hard as a one-armed bandit but I wanted to do half up and half back on Monday. Wayne helped me shift the gears and didn't mind that I drove with just one hand. He knew I would turn over the wheel to him if it got to be too much.

By 3:30 we were unpacking the truck in a secluded spot near a pond. We hiked for hours, holding hands most of the way. We stood on the top of ridges and stared out at valleys as far as we could see. We climbed logs and trees, with Wayne thinking I was a true nutcase for wanting to get into and out of a tree with my damned arm in a sling. What about him? He has an artificial leg. Crazy? Nah, just not willing to slow down much. He pushed my butt up and eased me down more trees than we could count. Our favorite was a huge oak that let us sit facing each other with our legs wrapped around the other, not unlike what Chris and Joe did on Joe's dad's farm that summer in July.

"How's the head, bud?"

"Aches. I still got two hours before I can take my meds again."

"Come here."

I leaned forward. He put his thumbs against my temples and massaged them lightly, then increased the pressure slowly. He moved up the side of my head and around to the back. For twenty minutes he rubbed my head with fingers and thumbs, easing away the ache, even if slowly. When he stopped, he kissed my forehead and asked me if it helped at all. Yeah, it helped a lot. Doctor Wayne, my saving grace from my pain and myself. We wouldn't be here in the mountains if it weren't for his idea and his gentle urgings to bring me to peace and quiet. It may be shitty to say so, but for awhile Joe was out of my thoughts. I guess that was the intent so when I did think of him, there was no guilt for it.

At 4:30 we headed off the mountain and down to the main road, in search of a place where we could get supper. We'd not had much to eat today. We drove until we hit a truck stop with a dial-up connection so that we could send mail to two young buddies. We wanted them to know they were being thought of too, knowing they too were taking care of each other. Doc had paged me while we ate. I went to call him. Wayne came to stand by me; not to be nosy but to hold on while we talked. The news was what we expected it to be. The lesions are cancer cells from the tumor at the lower right of my spine.

We walked around trails there after we ate, sent another message to our new buds, and then headed back to our camp site.

"You okay, man?" Wayne asked me.

"Yeah, bud. I'm okay. Thanks for bringing me up here. I haven't been here since Joe, you, me and Jamie came here three summers ago. I forgot how much I liked it up here. Hiking is a thrill. Air feels nice too, doesn't it?"

"The air feels great, bud. I bet we'll sleep good tonight."

"I don't wanna sleep. Not a lot anyway. I want to . . ."

He waited.

". . . nothing."

I dropped my eyes and played with a leaf in my hand.

"Finish it, Andrew."

"It's nothing."

"No. You want to ..."

". . . to hold you. I don't want to let you go. If I sleep, I don't know if I feel you. I'm scared."

"I know. You worried about what Doc told you about you about the cancer?"

"I knew it was cancer from the beginning. You did too. How could I lose my hearing and most of my vision so fast. How else could I become paralyzed so quickly, just overnight? But yeah, I'm worried. Scared shitless. I don't want to leave Joe or you."

"Then don't."

"The choice isn't mine."

"Some of it is. Do what Doc says, he's a good man. Have faith. I won't lie to you. I'll hold you and you know that I'm going to love you forever. It's just like you when you talk to our new buddy. He needs to hear that you care, but he also needs to let you kick him in the ass once in a while. If either of you are going to give in, you're not going to make it. So please don't give in."

"But it hurts. The pain is way overwhelming sometimes."

"Then tell me and I'll touch the pain. I can share it, take a little of it away."

"You're so sure."

"Yeah. Listen Andrew I love you. I love you more than anyone in my life. Joe's still here, even in the coma. My Kate is gone and I'm alone. I have you and only you. When you die, I'm alone again because Joe doesn't feel for me, no one feels for me, what you do."

When. Not If. He didn't say it to be cruel. He didn't hold it from me either. He was as scared as me because he just proved it. That's what we were to each other -- no mixed words or false signals that we had to unravel. Truth, from the heart.

"I don't want you to be alone, love. You know I don't want to leave you. I've given my full effort to every day and I'll keep doing it. I don't want to live in fear either. Our buddy said it ... 'I'm not afraid of dying, just not living'. We'll help him live all we can. And you can do whatever is right for me, too. I trust you. I thought last month that I was going to lose you to the infection and the fever. You bounced back. And now you're doing better again. I want to think that was partly me who did that."

"It was mostly you who did that. You give me a reason to live. We're all too young to feel all the shit that's been given us. You're almost 35. I'm 43. Our bud is 18 and I feel very strongly that it's too soon to be thinking about life and death. Joe's 43 and has had to do this twice. I can't say 'why us' because it's more than just us who feels pain and hurt. But sometimes damned to I feel beat on."

"I know. Me too. I've had it with being sick, of being afraid of anything. I'm going to say what I couldn't a few minutes ago."

He waited. He didn't know what I was going to say, so he looked into my eyes and let me take my time.

"I want you to make love to me Wayne. Not just hold me. I want you inside me so I can feel you."

He didn't say anything. I knew what he had to be thinking. Joe. It would hurt Joe. We've barely kissed a month ago, and now I'm asking him for more still. The kiss is something he wanted as badly as I did. I can't see that he wants me this way though.

"Are you asking because you're afraid?"


"But Joe's going to make love to you again. You know that because you've told me that."

"But I'm worried about how much time I got. What if I die before Joe comes out of the coma. I'll never feel it again. I don't want to die not knowing what taking a man feels like. It's been too long. I'm only human my friend."

"Never thought I'd hear you say that. You're always being a superman, trying to do all for everyone."

"I know. And I can't. I'm Andrew. I'm no superman. I do what I do because I love my Joe. And I love you too. Some will say I can't do both. I can and I will. I have. I already have and I won't change what I feel about Joe. Or you."

"You might."

"Not about Joe. For you -- maybe ... but for the better. Do you want to feel this too? Would you like to be inside me?"

"It doesn't matter what I want."

"Yeah it does."

"I want you to be sure this is what you want, that it's not for fear only. If you let me inside you, I want to know it's not just because you're afraid of dying."

"But it is."

He closed his eyes and lay down on his back. Tears rolled down his cheeks on both sides. I wiped them away and then I kissed his cheeks and I kissed his lips. If this is all he wanted, then it would be enough. I wanted more, but I also didn't want to be selfish or to be unfair to him. He had my heart. He really was doing better against his cancer but would he feel the same as me if he wasn't? I couldn't ask because he probably didn't know. For me it was an urgency to have him take me. And I was honest in telling him that I didn't want to die without knowing someone loved me. Sometimes jacking just didn't cut it. I needed him and I only hoped he wanted me.

He put his arm around me, and then the other. He pulled me on top of him and held me tight while we kissed.

"Andrew," he finally said. "Is it more than just fear?"

"I don't know. Right now all I feel is the fear. It's choking me."

"I know you love me. You tell me every day and you show me. I've never done this and I don't want to hurt you, in any way."

"Then don't."

He put me on my side. I reached between us and undid his jeans. He was hard as I've ever seen. I looked at him. I asked him to take me without saying a word. He finally reached over to my jeans and undid them. I too was very hard. We went inside the tent and lay on top of two layers of sleeping bag. I dug into my duffle and took out some lube.

"You came prepared," he said.

"I came with hope but if I never took it out of my duffle, it would have been okay."

We took our clothes off. The air was cool. He shivered when I touched his chest. I lay on my back, holding myself up on my left elbow.

"You gotta tell me how to do this. And you gotta tell me if it hurts you at all."

"I will."

He was bigger than me, about eight inches to my seven. We were the same thickness so he was long and slender. I can't remember the first time I thought about wanting him inside me. I've wanted this for a couple months. I knew he'd feel good. I knew he'd let me ask him to love me this way, but I never knew when.

I put lube in my hand and rubbed it onto him. I put some in my ass. I lay on my back, moved my butt up against his hips, and I put my legs up over his shoulders.

"Slow and easy, Wayne. Just push it in a little at a time. It's been awhile for me and I don't know what shape my ass is in."

"Okay man. Here I go."

I felt the head of his cock against me. He moved forward and I felt it slip past the tight ring of my ass. He stopped. Maybe it hurt him too. Compared to me, he'd been a lifetime without sex. I looked up at him and nodded. He pushed forward a bit more. I winced and he stopped immediately.

"Don't pull out," I told him. "Right there is fine for a moment."

He waited. The look on his face told me it was okay for him too. I nodded again and raised my ass a bit more. He slid in, slowly. In a moment, I felt his balls against my ass. He stopped and closed his eyes. He didn't speak or open them again for a few moments.

"What are you thinking, bud?"

He looked at me, with his 'melt my heart' smile.

"How good it feels. It's like ... my fist, but way better. It's warm and wet. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Just leave it there for a few moments. When you do get ready to come, I want it inside me. "

"But Andrew, that's ..."

"Don't argue with me, I want you. I mean it."

"But, Joe."

"I love you as much as I love Joe. I want your cum inside me because I want you to be a real part of me. It's not you OR Joe my love. It's you AND Joe. How can I prove I can love you equally if you won't let me?"

"You don't have anything to prove."

"Then let me prove it to myself. You have to trust that I love you and I want you to show me."

"I trust you, with a reservation."

"Waiter? We'd like a reservation please. Table for six by the window."

I laughed. He laughed too.

"Can't you be serious?"

"Nope. Now shut up. Can you lean forward?"

He did. He touched my lips gently with his. He looked at my eyes. I love Wayne's eyes (he says he loves mine more and I'll admit to having loveable eyes). He was easy on me. I didn't know what was in his head. This was his first time ever inside a guy's ass. Did he too make comparisons? I decided I didn't care. I did make comparisons and all I'll say about that is I'm a very lucky boy.

I spread my legs wide so he would lay on my chest. I didn't need to be driven into, yet. I wanted that too, but for now, just a manly connection to my buddy was enough. I had no doubts of how he felt for me because he would have refused me my request if he didn't feel this was okay.

"Andrew? I love you. I'm glad you asked me ... to do this."

"I love you too, my friend. Don't doubt it for an instant. I'm fine with you inside me. You've filled my life in six years and now you filled me to overfull."

"Are you ready for me to move?"

"More than ready."

He slid half way out and then back in again. I watched his face. He did it again. And again, pulling out further and pushing in longer. And again. I pulled him back to my lips and then we watched each others faces.

"God, Andrew, never have I felt like this."

"Is that good?"


"No? You don't like it?"

"I can't describe it, bud. I love it. I'm feeling it all over."

"Feels awesome to me man. You know what you're doing."

"How do I make sure I don't come too soon?"

"If you feel close, pull out or just push all the way in and leave it there. I'll help."

He continued to stroke me. I opened my hole, closed it, gripping and loosening as he entered me and withdrew. He pushed all the way in and stopped. He kissed me some more and I held him tight. I knew he'd have to come eventually, but I wanted this to last.

In a few minutes he moved so that he'd stay hard. I held on to him. He began again. We started and stopped a couple more times but then he got beyond being able to stop. He started to come inside me, so he let the rhythm take over as he pumped slowly in and out of me. I felt moist heat, knowing he was giving me his seed, giving me the part of him that I've wanted very badly to have for the past few weeks. His eyes were closed tight and his mouth open, leaning on his strong arms, filling me until he was spent. He shuddered incredibly and then lay on top of me. In a few moments I felt his dick slide out of me. I probed my insides with my finger, feeling his cum inside me, warm and wet. I knew it was there, I just wanted to feel it.

"Was it okay?" I asked.

"It was beautiful, love. You took something from me I never considered giving to you. I'm dreaming, I think, but don't wake me, not yet."

He looked at me. My eyes watered and then overflowed. He wiped the first couple away with his thumb but they came too fast.

"Your tears are running too fast for me, love, I can't keep up. Do you hurt?"

"No," I said, choked up. "I knew that was going to feel good. It still surprised me how good. You touched all the places inside that have been empty too long. You touched my soul too. I was so afraid I'd never feel such an intimate touch again."

"Andrew you have to believe Joe's not lost to you."

"I'm trying. But ..."

"No. I won't take you being negative, not where it comes to Joe. Stop right there if you can't say that you believe Joe's coming back to you some day."

I didn't say anything. My heart didn't know about faith today. I felt no hope. Joe will despise me forever for thinking that, never mind even putting it down on paper. It's what I believed and part of why I wanted Wayne inside me. We would talk about it again. For now I pulled him on top of me and held him so tight. I touched his back with my finger tips and he shivered. I reached down with my left hand and touched his ass, moved my fingertip to his hole, probing gently. He looked at me as he lay on my chest.

"You want me too, Andrew?'

"Oh yes."

He didn't move. His head was on my chest. His eyes locked on and held mine. He looked inside me to see what I felt, what I knew. He must be thinking that I was a madman. He'd never taken a man inside him and surely he had the fear of me hurting him physically. I was not that big, but in a virgin ass, I was big enough. He touched my lips with his fingers. He pushed my hair off my forehead. He touched my cheek with the backside of his fingers, and then ran his thumb under my eye, across my cheekbone. He was trying to make up his mind. I'd already told him I wanted him because of fear, not because I loved him first. I did love him but the fear was stronger. I didn't want to die with this enemy in my head. So I wanted my friend to make love to me because I did not want to die before I felt passion again.

"I love you Andrew because you're honest with me. I don't want you to be in pain. I don't want you to be so afraid that you can't act from your heart instead of from a mind that hurts so much. When you love me because you want to, I'll be even happier."

"But I do want to."

"But you can't right now. There's nothing wrong with being afraid, Andrew. It's wrong if you let it rule your life though. I just made love with you, giving in to your fear. But someday I hope to make love to you because you want me purely from love."

"Some day, Wayne. I will promise you that much."

"Andrew please tell me you're not going to hurt me with this," he said as he stroked my cock to hardness.

"You didn't hurt me with yours, and you're bigger than me. I won't hurt you, bud. I want you to feel exactly what I felt. Once you do, you'll understand, I hope."

He nodded. He took the lube and continued to rub my dick. I took it from him as he lay on his back. I took his right leg and put it over my shoulder, spreading some lube onto his pucker and then pushing ever so gently into him with my finger.

"You okay about this, bud?"

"Yeah, Andrew. I'm kinda scared. It's too new to me."

"We don't have to."

He thought about it, holding contact with my eyes, with me trying to read his mind. I couldn't.

"Go easy, man. Okay?"

I leaned forward and kissed him, putting my tongue in his mouth and playing gently with his tongue. I put the tip of my cock against him. There was no way I was going in in one thrust. If I did he'd scream and all of Pennsylvania would know I hurt him. I felt his hole relax for a second so I pushed my head inside him, then stopped right away. He clenched down tight, then flexed, then grabbed tight again. He watched my face. I watched his. He nodded and I felt him relax again. I eased in some more, maybe about one third. He nodded again, so I pushed in further. I waited. He was already warm and wet around my cock. He relaxed again and I slid very slowly in, stopping to let him catch his breath. He squirmed and pushed his ass fully on the rest of my length, moving until it fit right inside him. He had not winced or tried to pull away from me. I didn't move for long moments.



"No. I feel full. It feels awesome."

"See if this is okay," I said as I pulled out a little, maybe about half, and then slid inside fully again.

"My God, Andrew. More."

I did it again, twice this time. He smiled. I felt him so tightly around my cock that I didn't feel like I was just inside him, I felt like we were becoming one body. I was throbbing as I slid slowly in and out of him. I found my rhythm in no time, trusting that he would tell me it if hurt him or if he was okay. He smiled at me. I held on to his legs. I ran my tongue on his knee. I licked his skin with my lips, tasting it. I leaned forward and licked his chest, nipples, throat, chin, cheeks and kissed him gently. I slid into him and out of him while I watched his eyes. Wayne is boyish around his eyes. His face shows the wear and tear of a lot of years of cancer treatment but his eyes are deep and loving.

I felt on the edge of tears again, but not of any sadness or any hurt. This wasn't just sex because I didn't want Wayne to feel that way. Part of me wanted very badly to come inside him and leave something substantial. I don't really know what happens with cum inside soft tissue, but I hoped with all my heart that he would take my load and it would spread through him so that he would feel me even when we were separated.

I kissed him and continued to move in and out of him slowly. I wasn't going to last much longer because he was so tight around my cock. I tingled from head to base and into my balls. I decided not to fight it. I kept my pace and then I shuddered so hard I almost fell off him. I threw my head back and opened my eyes wide, staring up at the canopy of the forest, seeing stars sparkle in my head, knowing I was pouring my sex and my love into my buddy's ass, into his soul if he'd take it that deeply. I could hear my own moaning, escaping my throat and I realized I was still shooting into Wayne, almost a half minute after I started. He'd found my reserve of cum and wanted it all. When I was done, my knees went weak and he eased me down on top of his chest. He kissed the top of my head then my forehead, then butterfly kissed my brows, lids, cheeks and put a warm tender kiss on my lips. I was empty. He was full. He held me and we kissed softly. I closed my eyes and put my head back on his chest, listening to his heart beat.

"It's for you, Andrew. You only for the moment."

I dozed off hearing those last words, a smile on my face.

Wayne lay there and thought about what we had done. He thought of what Joe would think. He thought of how I thought and felt, and about how he too felt. Had he taken anything from Joe? He didn't know. I would have told him he took nothing from Joe but that he gave to me so I could continue to give to Joe. I would have told him he gave me special moments in my life that I would trade for no one. He knew I wanted this and why. It came down to dying without ever feeling again. He wanted it be because I loved him. I do, but the fear of dying is a little stronger right now.

We lay together for a long time in the tent. We finally went for dinner a few miles from our camp. We walked in the woods holding hands and then we went to sleep. I lay on my left side and he held me from behind, the way I like. On Sunday, we spent the entire day hiking trails and climbing trees. He hadn't climbed a tree, before yesterday, since he'd lost his leg. Now he knew he could. We helped each other. Sunday afternoon we made love in a hard rain, needing no lubricant because the rain water was all it took to keep us wet.

On Monday, we came home. The weekend marked the end of summer. It also marked the beginning of a closeness that would inspire me to become well again.

We were going to end the chapter there but since we got a bit of room to grow on, we're going to continue this for a day or two more and share a little more. Everyone (this went out to about 30 preview friends first before ending up here on the Nifty Archive) says 'tell us more about Wayne. What does he think of this; what did he feel like?'

September 11th -- Saturday

What I think; and what it felt like. Andrew will tell you I'm not a man to use a lot of expression. I've been called 'reserved'. Actually I've been called worse, but 'reserved' will do. When we sent a preview of the 'first kiss' section to a friend, she was a bit surprised to read that it was not passion and fire. It was, as Andrew said, soft and nice. Those of you who had a preview of this journal chapter told us time and again that you could see it coming between Andrew and me. You also say that for two friends to love this way is okay, even though we feel concern for what Joe would think. Most of you who are reading this have also read the "Chris & Joe" series and you have read what Joe wrote in the beginnings of the "My Buddy Andrew" series. You say that Joe will like that Andrew is being loved. You haven't asked "what about when Joe comes home?". Maybe that's good because neither of us have an answer for that. Andrew says three become one. I would like that. Will Joe? Only Joe knows and he's not telling us yet. But I think Joe is telling Andrew that he's going to live and decide things for himself.

I'm trying to show Andrew what's important and what's not. He's worried about the wrong things, in terms of me. He says he wants me to talk about our physical selves, so you know what I am like, other than just a name. I find it difficult to write this, but he's exposed me already, so I will swallow my embarrassment as well as I can. He will edit my words anyway if they're not right; and I just might let him. I like to write and I've done some of my best in E-mail (and in my own journals, one of which Andrew wants me to share in the next chapter -- I will, because he asked).

Saturday morning I was awake well before dawn. I lay and watched Andrew sleep. For those of you who have seen his face in his favorite picture, you can imagine the sweet innocence I see. I watch him like Joe watched Chris. I don't touch him because he's easily woken. I'm a little surprised my staring does not rouse him, but I'm glad for that. I got out of bed for awhile and stood by the window, a blanket around my shoulders, watching the daylight come. I can't see the sunrise itself because my apartment faces west so I am a bigger fan of sunsets instead. The end of the day brings a certain peace. The beginning of it brings an anticipation that I sometimes have to choke back so I can carry on.

I stood and put my back to the wall, still beside the window. My friend lay on his side, facing me, hand under his chin. I stood there for a time, I don't really know how long. It was quiet and I enjoyed that Andrew slept because he did not do much of it in these long months without his Joe. Our Joe -- I have to say that because I too love Joe; though not at the level Andrew does. Then again, I don't think anyone possibly could. But Joe has been a warm and welcomed friend to me these six years. I've called him in the middle of the night after I've had nightmares of the accident, too scared and lonely to possibly stay by myself. Joe came in a heartbeat. He would take me to the sofa and hold me until I went back to sleep. He kept watch over me. He'd make us breakfast and made sure I ate everything. We knew what the nightmares were like. They could drill deeply inside us and stalk us until we gave in to them. So therefore, Joe is special to me because we share our pain and understand it intimately.

I finally eased back under the sheets with Andrew. He slept another two hours beyond that and I didn't take my eyes off him. When he began to waken, he automatically reached to me, eyes still closed. When he touched my chest he smiled. It took him a moment to open his eyes. When he did he pulled me to him and touched my lips ever so lightly with his. I was still getting used to kissing Andrew. I kept wondering why I was lucky enough to have the honor. I don't know what I had done to earn his affection so deeply.

He was hard when he woke. It took little effort for me to be there as well. Truthfully I had done so off and on for several hours.

"Mornin' love. You didn't sleep, did you." It wasn't a question.

"I can sleep tomorrow."

"I hate that you're so restless. I wish ..."

"I rested, bud. Really. I've been watching you sleep. You make me smile."

"And I make you hard, too then. Me too, obviously. Can I be inside you?"


He got on his knees and I lay on my back. He leaned forward and we kissed for a short bit. I opened my legs so he could get between them.


"What's the matter?"

"Lost it. I'm sorry, man, it's not you." He bit his lip.

He's having such a hard time keeping an erection. It's been happening this week. We've not made love since our Monday in the rain, but we had lay nude together. He was terribly frustrated, scared badly of it being an insult to me. I didn't know what to do for him. It could have been a lot of things. I didn't think, really, that it was because of me. This morning I took him into my mouth for the first time. I had not tasted him yet -- had not ever done so to anyone -- and I wasn't very sure of my ability. But I wanted to do what I could. So I sucked him for about 10 minutes, even beyond his getting hard again. Then I sat on his cock and let him fill me. He rolled me onto my back a few minutes later and was doing okay, but it faded again.

He wanted to fuck me so bad. I sucked him some more and got him hard again. I liked his taste, texture, and smoothness. It took a little effort, but I enjoyed doing it. I would talk to him about more but for now I was trying to help him overcome his anxiety. I played with my ass and encouraged him to re-enter me awhile later. He slid fully inside in two thrusts. I opened and closed myself around him and helped him along. I felt him slip out of me. He looked at me with great dispair. I pulled him on top of me and I pushed my finger inside of him with one hand while playing with his balls with the other. I would not let him tell me he was sorry. I massaged his insides, hitting the spots that I knew he had hit with me before. He got wonderfully hard again and re-entered me. Again he faded and again I got him hard with my fingers and my lips and tongue. I looked at his face as I sucked him. He smiled at me and I enjoyed it all the more. Even when he was not fully erect the texture of him was nice.

When he was ready, he entered me again. I opened and closed my muscle ring around him. I raised my hips off the bed and he held my ass. He moved easily within me and I pushed steadily against him. But it didn't last more than a few minutes.

He started crying because he thought I would be mad.

"My God Wayne, this is agony."

"Andrew, I don't have to have you inside me to know you love me. Please don't think I would be mad. This is for both of us, not just for me."

I kissed him and made him stop crying.

We started again, me gently urging him to hardness again. He faded again and we rested. We touched and kissed, and he got hard again, re-entering me yet again. I let him do what he wanted. I tingled from head to toe so I had no complaints. He was playful and I enjoyed his playtime with great passion. We had to stop and start a few times more. He saw I was willing. He slid into me and out of me fully, on purpose. I swallowed him whole. I didn't take my eyes off his and I gave him smiles, the kind he likes from me, sincerely. He made me feel good.

After about ten minutes in this current cycle of him inside me, he began to breathe as his orgasm drew close. He closed his eyes and kept up such a steady rhythm that I thought surely he was becoming a machine. He shuddered and gave me a wonderful full load. It took all morning. Now, tell me if you think I was mad at him. Hardly (pun intended).

Andrew's turn again.

I'm going to move this ahead a few days because there is news of all kinds to share. Keep in mind the words are mine but the typing is being done by my buddy. These journals would surely have ended this week if it weren't for Wayne. Some of this will be collected from E-mail that Wayne has sent out or helped me send. Our days are full, as you imagine.

September 15th - Wednesday

I was sitting beside my Joe, eyes closed, holding his hand on my chest, my head back against the chair. I still had a terrible headache, one that had started in a hellish stream of pain last night. It had felt like someone shoved something sharp into my skull, bringing me to my knees quickly and me taking Wayne down with me. He held me tight, waiting for it to pass. It relented, finally, and I took my meds at bedtime. I hate them, like my young friend hates his, but they are a necessary evil if there is to be any comfort.

I had sent E-mail to our young buddy 20 minutes before but I had to end it sooner than I wanted because the vision was bugging me. I decided to sit back and close my eyes for a bit. When I opened my eyes, my heart leapt into my throat. I thought for a moment that the lights had been turned off, and then quickly realized that it was me, not my environment. I closed them again and shook my head, rubbed my eyes, and then reopened them. I had lost the sight in my right eye slowly but my left had been 100% fine. But now I couldn't see out of my left eye either. I waited. Panic hit me like an electrical shock.

"Margie!" I yelled as I stood, holding on to the chair.

She had been close by. She came in and thought imediately that something was wrong with Joe again. When she saw me, my eyes, she knew it was me instead. She came to me right away and helped me sit on my cot. She sat beside me, holding my face, probably looking at my eyes.

"Andrew, my God. We better call Wayne."

"My phone is in my gym bag, Margie. You dial. If you get his voicemail, hit "0" so you can get our department secretary."

"Wayne, this is Margie, for Andrew. Hold on love, he's right here."

"My bud. I need you to come get me early, if you can."

He said he could come right away, no problem. I was deciding what to say. He asked me what's up. I took only a moment to answer.

"I'm blind, love. I can't see from my left eye either. It was all of a sudden. I'm sorry."

He told me I have nothing to apologize for and that he'd be here in a half hour. Margie sat with me until he arrived. I felt when he got there, more than hearing him. He had called Doc on the way to pick me up but got his service. He left a message to call us back at his place around 11:00. Doc called back on time and Wayne told him what was wrong. He said he would call an eye specialist friend and get me examined this afternoon, as soon as he could. We waited.

This is from an E-mail that Wayne sent out during that afternoon. It's too good to not include, and too long to retype:

This afternoon we were at the PC, trying to write mail or just to continue work on the journal. Andrew says 'lemme type too'. Oh God I would grow to be a weary old man if I said yes, but I had to see what he was up to. He types just fine with his left hand and knows very well where all the letters are. He told me that I'm his right hand and he wanted to see how it went. It was the stuff of friendship and laughter, laughter so hard we coughed and wheezed because it took our breath away. You had to see it to believe it but I'll try to describe it as best I could. I would read a sentence or a paragraph, depending on what someone had written to us. We would decide, out loud, how to answer it. (You who got such a reply will never know, but it tickled me pink to be a part of it). And then we would begin to type, as if we really were one (and failed more than we succeeded but kept it up because we finally got a little rhythm going). We'd spell it out sometimes just to click together right but he would keep up with me and I'd keep up with him. Normally, at a decent clip, we can both type as well as anyone, just pure text, not accounting for typos. God forbid I'd have to say "wait, typo!". It would just make us laugh all the more and he'd wait while I backspaced so we could do it again. Andrew discovered that he could type all the letters of his name except one, left handed.

Doc wanted no part of giving Andrew chemo today but Andrew got his way. He says today is like any other day, with one difference; one that he can live with. I too had my treatment at the same time. Doc knows me well; has for over 10 years. He knows how I feel about Andrew and he says I'm a man of great conviction. I can live with that. He has grown to care very much for Andrew, even against the doctor/patient need to keep a safe distance. Andrew won't let him because he says if he trusts the man with his life, he has to give a little too. Doc is okay with that; and he too loves 'gotta believe'. He says I ought to go to med schools across the US and teach med students a lesson in hope, not just about the body. Okay, when do I start? :-) Andrew's smiling. He says he likes my style. Cool; I like my style too. No modesty intended.

He's settling down for awhile, leaning against me, turning his face into my neck. He's been terribly nauseous for the past hour (mine has yet to kick in). I made us a rice dish for supper. We wanted to walk very badly today but the rain has been torrential at times. We've had local flooding all over the place and the street in front of my building had water over our sneakers when we got home from the hospital. It took 45 minutes to drive 4 miles and we've had more rain this afternoon than we had all summer. For those who talked to us about sunshine and a very nice day today, we are a little envious.

Now that he's dozing off, I just wanted to say a couple things (he'll see this eventually, which is okay by me):

Many of you have warmed up to me quite well. I worry a little about the others, but I think it just takes time. To you all I am a newfound beast. To Andrew I am a great buddy of 6 years, which makes me a very blessed man. I want to say (without Andrew putting in his biased $.02) that I am very deeply in love with our friend and I will never ever give you a reason to think otherwise. I don't own him and he only rarely listens to me (well, maybe not so rarely—he's a beautiful friend). Tomorrow he wants to be back with Joe so I'll take him in the morning. He's not going to work tomorrow; I worry about how he's going to handle work now but that's not for me to worry about, only to support him. If he makes up his mind on to manage it, he will.

His parents are taking us to dinner on Saturday. Yes, by the way, he has talked to them today, told them everything up to date, and made sure they are okay. I talked to them as well and they said they will trust his words if I can assure them he's not putting up a front. His mom would know anyway, if he was, and I asked her what she really felt. She says 'peace'. Works for me.

Andrew's birthday is coming up (a lot of you have been asking me) -- it's October 3rd. He'll be 35. We're spending that weekend at his folks out in the country. He hasn't been home since late July, so the time away will be welcomed. For now, we only worry about today. Tomorrow will somehow take care of itself, like today has done, mostly. I'm here for our friend. Please know that.

This is from E-mail the next day. Wayne's balking at me sharing this but I also want you to get to know Wayne better. This says a lot about who he is and why I love him like I do. I'll know if he changes any of this too -- though you have to know by now I trust Wayne to speak for me. I don't have a choice right now but even when I do, Wayne is the buddy I've loved and will keep loving, despite his many many (note: Wayne removed one of the many's) faults. Just kidding ... I can't count that high anyway. :-)

The subject line of the E-mail read "1/2 day at home". Well, maybe a little more than a half day at home. Wayne checking in and getting caught up on the mail. I went to work this morning after taking Andrew back to Joe at 7:30. I decided that I feel lousy enough, physically, that I didn't want to stay at work. Andrew would say that for me to come home sick from work means it's more than just physical because I rarely take a day off, even the day(s) after chemo. Most of you know I think of my work as a distraction, away from the cancer for a few hours. But I left the office at 11:00 and will work from home instead.

I'm using Andrew's E-mail account because I don't have some of you in my Outlook address book yet (and would like to ask permission to put you there if you're okay with that). The way I have my mail set up is a name is added automatically to my address book when I reply to them. For the few here who haven't sent me mail on my account yet, your name wouldn't be in my address book. At the moment you are part of a group of about 30 who are getting updates from Andrew (or me with his help in choosing names). I'm sure I've intruded on 1 or 2 folks here, so please excuse me if I have.

Margie gave Andrew a huge hug when I dropped him off this morning and is going to be his eyes today around the hospital. The other nurses will pick up for her when she leaves for home, but she's working a double today because of Andrew. Gotta love Margie. Trust me, even with no eyesight at all right now, Andrew will get around pretty well. After coming on 18 months there, he knows it well. He won't do his 'midnight roaming' around alone any more until the blindness passes, but he said he's also not going to sit in a 12 x 12 foot room 24 hours a day either. Stubborn. Little cocky too, but in a good way.

It's been a weird and funny 24 hours. When Andrew called yesterday to tell me he's blind, there was this incredible high anxiety in him. It lasted all of an hour from what I could tell. Our day together improved his mood 1000%. He slept in my arms here at the PC for more than 6 hours last night, soundly, and no nausea until well past 3:00 a.m. when he finally woke up the first time. You won't have mail from Andrew himself today unless he gets one of the nurses or techs to help him. I think he'd feel funny in asking since they're busy, but I also think they would offer to if he needed to write. I hope he takes advantage of his downtime and just gives his energy to Joe.

Doc just called my pager. I'll be back in a bit - I want to call him.

Good news - he says my bone marrow results showed yet another incredible week of improvement. My counts are dropping like a rock. Last week was in the 30's or so times normal. They're not quite half again this week, down around 17,000 times above normal. If I keep that up, I get to have only 1 chemo a week, starting in October, instead of 2. I'm happy about it, but I also find it really hard to 'celebrate' when I know that Andrew is so ill. Our young friend who is also ill (hi man, of course you know I'm thinking about you today) would probably tell me to shove that attitude when it belongs. But then again, he would recognize it for what it is -- a funk. Today is one of those days I feel like I can't get out of my own way, which made me thoroughly useless at work.

I'm finding myself sitting here (I'm almost an hour already in composing this) wondering how Andrew's going to work. He's a business analyst and writes a lot during the day. He could still write on the PC (and someone would help format this documents), especially once he gets the feeling back in his arm. He could still teach, with assistance. But there are also a lot of things that he can't do and we don't know if the blindness is only short-term. When he reads this mail eventually he will get on my case for putting myself into the funk. Yeah it's self-inflicted ... I can't help but be moved by my friend. At the same time I'm telling you all that he's a determined man and will do what he wants to. We'll work it out. You guys always throw good ideas and love back at us, so who am I to be worrying about something like this by myself.

Still pouring down rain. The gloomy day only adds to this mood. I'm going to get off here for awhile and sign on to my LAN at work. I'll check for mail later. Andrew says he'll call me (crap, but I'm not at work -- I'll call him and tell him I came home to work). I'll see him around 5:00 too because he has a radiation session this afternoon.

In the meantime, we were getting heavy wind and rain from the hurricane called Floyd in the south Atlantic. Wayne settled into a funk during the afternoon and he says the gray gloom only added to it. Then at 6:30 (I was at the hospital with Joe and Wayne had been home from work a short time) the power went out. It was out 19 hours at his place, and turns out to have been out 26 hours at Joe's. We talked a little bit about what he did that night. Again, he's reluctant to share with you all because he doesn't want you thinking he's a wimp. If you knew Wayne like I do, you wouldn't think such a thing anyway. In the chat room last night, several came to his rescue to help him out of the funk. It's going to take some time because he feels deeply for my condition. As for me, I want his strength, not his fears. I know all the fears because he doesn't hide from me. If it means me helping him too, I won't shy away.

September 18th - Saturday afternoon

"So tell me (and us) about what you did."

"I wanted to have a sense of your blindness. It didn't take much to get it because it was already pitch black outside. I had lit a couple candles and I was laying on the sofa reading your earlier journals by flashlight. I shut it off and got up to blow out the candles. I felt my eyes trying madly to find some point in the darkness to hold on to. There was nothing to focus on, not even a little light that would let them stop the dancing. I decided I wanted to see what it would take to get from the middle of my living room to my bedroom. You know I've been here a long time, so I know the layout of my place well. But I couldn't do it without stumbling. I carried my flashlight and wanted to use it, but I knew to be true to my experiment, I was on my own. I knocked over the rack that holds my CDs. I hit the corner to the bathroom door and the edge of my bedroom door. I stubbed my toe against my dresser and almost missed my bed entirely. I lay there for an hour after, still no light. All I could do was feel sad. You saw me tell a friend in mail a bit ago about my own anxiety monster. I told her that it was standing a foot taller than me, close behind me. I told her I feel like I'm being stalked. But I don't know, still, how you feel because the storm passed, the electricity came back on, today is a bright sunny day and I can see. And you can't."

"I know all the things that scare you. But don't you realize that I'm not letting this bother me?"

"Yeah. Teach me, then."

"Listen to what our young friend told you in his mail last night. He's said it all just right. You have to read it again and let it sink in, because he wants to help you. You know you love it when he and his buddy tell you they love you. They love you because you've been the best kind of buddy to me, and because you've been there for them, too."


"Don't you dare give me 'but'. The words are there. I know because you read them to me twice."

"I can't. I want to, because of who he is to me."

"Then don't be a shit, to him or to me. I don't want your fear!"

"All I got is fear, damn you Andrew. I've watched you every day for six years. Now I don't feel like I'm making a difference because I'm choking to death on this. I slept an hour and I'm tired."

"I slept three. I'm tired too. I can accept the blindness, for now. Because of you."

"I'm not what everyone thinks I am. I hurt, dammit, I ache so bad for you I can't see ..."

"See straight? Me either, so I got nothing on you."

"Andrew you got courage. You got everything I don't. I'm not a hero like our E-mail friends think, because my thoughts betray what I want to feel."

"But you love me, Wayne. Don't you know it's enough for you to tell me every day you love me?"

"NO!! Because I can't give you your sight back. I can't stop your headaches. Fuckin' A, Andrew, I can't help you LIVE!!"

I slapped his face, hard. If I had missed I could have hit his eye or empty air, but I manged to hit him solidly on his cheek. My hand stung. He stopped and dropped to his knees. He sobbed so hard. I've heard him cry before, but not like this. I knew what he felt because I'd felt it with Joe in the beginning. I made it my fault that Joe went into the coma. I made it my fault that he was still there. But I've had long discussions with Wayne about how to be strong with someone. I didn't know why he felt so helpless. I knelt with him, and I took him into my arms.

"I love you, Wayne. You're everything you say you're not and more. It's not your job to make my pain go away. All I want from you is your friendship and your love. I want someone to talk openly to me about everything I love and I hate, about all my joy and all my fears."

"It's eating me alive, Andrew, and I don't know how to make it stop."

He couldn't stop crying. I held him close as his body shook. Wayne is strong -- who else could say such words to me? A lesser man would have shut it all out instead, and that's not something I could have taken. I wanted all of Wayne, good, bad, strong, weak -- because we are friends first and what makes him good and bad affects my life. So let his fears come out and tell me something out of weakness too. It's bound to be in there. But his love is stronger than he thinks.

"Then we will do it together. Let's go for a walk."

To be continued . . .