Date: Mon, 21 Jul 2003 19:53:12 EDT From: JuilianJ@aol.com Subject: a long way home chap 3 A LONG WAY HOME By: Julien Chapter 3 This story is 100% fictional and is by no means depictive of the life of any person, place or thing. It contains sexual activities between males and should only be read if it is legal to do so in your area. Read at your own risk and enjoy. Comments are welcomed and would be very much appreciated. ENJOY! I would also like to thank my editor for his honest opinion on this, it means alot man. Thanks. DANNY I had awakened the day after the incident feeling worse than I had the night before. I couldn't get the image of what had gone down out of my head, and every time I thought about it, I felt the urge to throw up. Greg wasn't making it any easier for me by constantly asking me what was wrong. Fuck! If I wanted to talk about it, I would. But I didn't tell him that. All I did was tell him that I needed some down time to think about what had gone down, and that I would eventually fill him in on all the details when I was ready. He seemed to accept that and left that morning, supposedly to meet a friend for a morning jog, but I knew better. He was probably going to meet his morning trick from last night. That thought alone had my stomach turning. At one in the afternoon, I had finally dragged myself out of bed and made my way into the shower. The piping hot water did me a world of good as I closed my eyes and successfully managed to block out some of my thoughts. Those that remained, I tried to ignore the best I could, but no matter how hard I tried, my mind refused to cooperate, and I found myself thinking; thinking about my past, my problems, and of George. As soon as I arrived home last night, I found myself wanting to pick up the phone and call him, tell him what had happened. And as strange as it may have seemed, especially after everything that's happened, I wanted to feel his arms around me, telling me that everything was going to be ok, that I was going to be ok. But that was not to be the case. I couldn't call on him at the drop of a hat anymore. He could never be that person for me, ever again. "Shit!" I cried, frustration filling me as I half-heartedly forced myself to shake away all thoughts connected with George and my past life. I never expected this to be an easy task, to forget about him at the drop of a hat, but I didn't expect this either, this feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach, present whenever I thought of him. It was a feeling of guilt, one of remorse and, even though I tried to tell myself I was doing the right thing, I quickly realized that telling myself something and believing it were two very different things. With the events of last night still very fresh in my mind, I realized that I still had a long way to go before I could finally come to terms with my actions. "That's it? Are you sure nothing else happened? Cause if I find out that asshole did something that you didn't want done, I'll fuck him up and ..." Greg said, his apparent anger coming in loud and clear through his actions. His fist curled and uncurled, and his usual calmness was stripped away in favor of a more sinister look. I had finally told him about the incident, as I had come to call it, and his reaction had somewhat put me off guard. I never, in a lifetime, expected this degree of anger from him over something that was obviously consensual sex. "Yeah, I'm sure. I guess I just...I over reacted. I'm not used to that kinda thing. I guess I just panicked after it was over." I said, my voice barely above a whisper. It was embarrassing enough having to retell the sordid details of the night before, but not having the strength to retell it confidently was something that just made it all the worse. It was sex for gods' sake. A simple fuck and I was behaving like I was raped or something. I finally was able to calm down after my morning shower and think everything over, put everything into context, and I came to the realization that I was being naïve about the whole situation. Too much time spent sheltered with George had done that to me. It made me soft, unaware, ridiculously unprepared for what real life entailed: sex without attachment, disposable partners, bills, etc, etc, etc. And if I ever expected to live my life the way I wanted to, I had to be realistic about what to expect. I snapped out of thought as Greg's hand grasped my shoulder. "Ok. I'm gonna have to take your word for it but if anyone tries to fuck with you, make you do something you not comfortable with, you let me know ok." "Ok." "And Danny." "Yeah." "Just 'cause the opportunity is there, don't mean you got to take it. Okay? I know you out to prove that you can survive without George and all, but you don't gotta fuck around with every cat to prove it, ok." I was about to argue that he did that all the time, but held back. Greg had been living like that for a long time, so he probably knew what he was talking about. And if I were to admit it to myself, I wasn't ready yet to start wearing that scarlet letter on my chest. It was gonna take time to get used to sleeping with someone new. "Ok," I replied. After that, the conversation turned to my living arrangements, and all the sentimental shenanigans that Greg was throwing my way disappeared into thin air. "Now that that's out of the way, we get down to business. I know I told you that I wouldn't mind you staying here and all, but I got some house rules that you gots to follow, you get me?" He questioned, his eyes burning into mine. "Yeah, I get you." I stated. "Good. First off, you keep your hands off my shit. That includes all my porn, my stash of condoms, and my dildos, ok?" I cringed on that last count but nodded. "Secondly. Don't answer the phone. If I'm not here, the machine will pick up. And thirdly, no fucking in the house. I don't bring no one back here, and you can't either. You keep your shit outside and that includes the hubby." "He's not my hubby." I started to protest, but he cut me off. "Whatever he is, just keep it out here. I like you, Danny, which is why I'm not gonna charge you rent or any shit like that, but I expect you to contribute to what you eat, and keep my shit tight, just like how I have it. Other than that, we'll get along just fine." And with that, he pulled me into an embrace, something that I hadn't expected. "I appreciate you putting out for me, Greg, I really do, and I'm gonna find some way to make it up to you..." At that, I could feel my eyes begin to get moist. "Uh, man, don't start with that shit, please. I know you appreciate this, Danny, and I'm happy to help out, but I'll put your ass out if you start any of that emotional shit with me," he stated, pulling away from me and straightening up to his full 6ft, 2inch stature. I just let my hands fall to my sides and tried to compose myself without much success. I could still feel that lump in the middle of my throat, and every five seconds I had to wipe away imaginary sweat beads from my eyes. "I'm gonna go out later, same place we went last night, and you're welcome to join me if you want." Even though he sounded sincere enough, I got the distinctive feeling that he was hoping I would say no, so I did. "I think I'll pass. He's probably going to be there and I'm just not ready to see him, not right now. Maybe another time," I offered half-heartedly, to which Greg shook his head in agreement. "Ok, there's a couple of menus in the kitchen drawer if you get hungry, and I'll put out a couple of tapes for you." "Tapes?" I inquired, not quite understanding where this was going, "It's a private collection I think you'll like. Your kinda guys, too..." "Oh," I said, finally realizing what he was referring to. The last thing on my mind was sex, so I politely declined, to which he replied, "Your loss. Have fun with your good ol' right hand and imagination." I watched as he then gathered up his wallet, keys and cell, and walked towards the door. Each step he took represented another notch in my state of depression. I didn't want to go out with him, but the idea of staying home alone was not something that I relished either. But I couldn't tell Greg any of that. He might think I was being 'emotional and shit', and the last thing I wanted to do was piss him off to the point where he would ask me to leave. So, instead of saying anything, I let him walk out the door while I stayed in, staring at an invisible spot on the wall. What a life. GEORGE As I went through our photo album, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of animosity rise up in my chest. The thoughts that ran through my head about him made me want to go straight to church, throw myself at the altar and beg for forgiveness. I was never the type of man to hold a grudge against everyone, but seeing our memories being distorted and destroyed like this made a piece of my heart break. I just couldn't understand it, I couldn't understand him. What was the logic behind all of this? Why was this necessary? More importantly, why was it my fault that he was unhappy? I had done for that boy as if he were my own son, and I had opened my home and my heart to him without expecting anything but love in return. I had given him my all, and for what. I was bitter, I admit that, but I had every right to be. I had taken my load of shit from him over the years, more than most people could bear, but I did it out of love. What was so wrong about that? Of course, I seemed to be the only one surprised by this turn of events. Everyone else around seemed neither shocked nor felt sorry for me. It wasn't what anyone said in particular, no, it was all in their actions. The neighbors staring at me as if I were some child molester, and shaking their heads. I could hear the snide remarks too, "he's only a kid. What's a man that old doing with a kid? I'm glad it's stopped." I was never one to allow public opinion to rule my life, but it hurt to know that I put my respectability on the line for a relationship that was ending faster than it had begun. A relationship that I did everything to preserve, keep alive. And, for the first time in my life, I wished that I had never allowed him to kiss me, never allowed that fine line to be crossed. I wished that I had never met Daniel, and God, forgive me for saying this, but I wish that I had never met Dale. It all started with him, through him. If Dale and I had never met, then I wouldn't have been the one Daniel turned to when his father died. He would have been forced to cry on someone else's shoulder, mess with someone else's head. Fuck with someone else's life - NOT MINE. But I couldn't turn back the hands of time. I couldn't change the past and I couldn't erase three years of memories. That was just the reality of things. I slammed the album shut and threw it across the room, narrowly missing a glass perched on the counter. And the thing was, I really could have cared less. I could have broken all the glasses in the house and I wouldn't have cared. Nothing seemed to matter at that moment, and to think, it had only been a day. It made me wonder if in a week or two, a month, maybe two months down the line, if I would be a nutcase. Would I be tearing my hair out just because this relationship fell apart? 'It was possible', was my only thought. And that thought scared me. I wondered how I could ever let myself get to the point where I had to rely on another person for my happiness. Was I that desperate for affection? I guess I was. Loneliness is a disease of its own making. It can eat you from inside out and make you hollow. That was how I felt before Daniel, hollow, empty, sad. That's how I felt now, right at that moment - hollow, empty, sad. The story of my life. 'Come on, George, you're better than that. Don't allow him to do this to you. Be a man, take a stand. Don't let this be it.' And even though it was what I was thinking, I knew that was all it would ever be, just thoughts in my head. I knew I could 'think hate' him all that I wanted, but if he needed me, I knew I would be there. There was no other life I knew outside of him. Three years of happiness had made me forget how my life was before him. I knew I could never go back to that, and I resolved at that moment I would do anything to get him back. I would be any man he wanted me to be if it made him come home, come back to me with open arms. I would make him love me again if it was the last thing I did. A VERY SHORY CHAPTER BUT MORE IS ON THE WAY. LET ME KNOW IF ANYONE WANTS ME TO CONTINUE OR IF THERE IS SOMETHING YOU LIKE/DISLIKE ABOUT THIS CHAPTER.