Date: Fri, 21 Mar 2003 04:17:01 +0100 (CET) From: CT Subject: Road Trip - 3 (gay / relationships) You asked for it, now you've got it: the next installment. Thanks to you who took the time to let me know your thoughts on the first two chapters. Your comments are much appreciated. And to those of you who haven't written yet: Go on, write that email. Looking back at chapters 1 and 2, I realize I didn't do a particularly good job of proofing them. Sorry about that. I claim impatience with getting something out and receiving some feedback as excuse. I hope to do better this time. Special thanks to Larry, who has volunteered to do editing and proofreading. Mistakes you still find are mine. For greatly reducing the number of mistakes you can find and generally improving the story you should definitely thank him. Disclaimer: This story features, among other things, love and intimacy, both emotional and physical, between men. This by definition makes it a gay story. If you are offended by or not interested in this, or if reading this is illegal at your age or in your locality, please leave now. I am not going to bail you out of jail for it unless you're cute. All the usual disclaimers apply. Feedback is highly appreciated and will be answered. ct@fangorn.xs4all.nl . Always remember: Keep it Consensual, Safe and Sane out there... CT Copyright notice: (C) Copyright 2003 by the author, who can be reached by email at ct@fangorn.xs4all.nl. A non-exclusive license to display is granted to Nifty Archives and its mirrors. Copying and format conversions are allowed for personal use only provided that this copyright notice stays intact. You are not allowed to repost or reuse this story outside the Nifty Archives without the authors explicit written permission except as allowed by the fair use clauses of US copyright law and the Berne convention. Road Trip, chapter 3 3.1 Pete I suddenly wake up. Where am I? As memories of the previous day, or was it night, come flooding back, I realize I'm not alone, and that I am naked. On my right is Micha, fully dressed, and half sitting up against the headboard, with his arm draped around my shoulder. As I wake up further I realize that I am holding him, too. What's going on here? My stirring must have woken him up, too. He opens his eyes and smiles at me. "Good morning, sleeping beauty!" How can he be so cheerful immediately upon waking up? "Micha, what's going on? What time? How...?" Questions tumble out of my mouth. "Whoa there, slow down a bit, let me wake up first. Arghhh, sitting here for 14 hours didn't do my back much good, so I'll just walk around the room a bit while we talk, OK? To answer your second question first, it's twenty-three fifteen. That's a quarter past eleven PM to you. The how is easy. You fell asleep but didn't let go of me, and I could use some sleep as well. Sorry, if that bothers you it won't happen again. As for what's going on, not much right now, but we should plan where to take it from here." He suddenly turns around and looks at me. "No, it doesn't bother me." My face must have betrayed my feelings of anxiety. "Cheer up, I'm not kicking you out if you don't want to. Now you try to wake up properly, I gotta take a leak." With that he disappears into the bathroom, and soon I can hear the sound of a full bladder being relieved. Wake up? I'm already awake, which is more than I'd expected to be a few days ago, and I suddenly realize I don't know what to do anymore. I have no plans. I didn't expect to need them. Come to think of it, I haven't had many plans for the past year. I don't notice Micha coming back into the room, but suddenly realize he is sitting on the other bed, watching me. "Micha, I just don't know anymore. I lost my job last week. I've been off sick too often and wasn't productive enough some of the time I was there. I guess being beaten up does that to you." I manage a wry smile. "After yesterday, I wasn't expecting to be alive. Beyond next week I won't have money for rent, I don't have a job, and there's not much of a job market around here for damaged people who washed out of college, and liberal arts at that. I was lucky to get the job I had. I don't even know what happened to my truck." Micha continues watching me as he speaks. "The truck should be OK, I parked it out of sight. I can't do anything about the local job market, but do you have anyone you can ask for help? Friends or family, here or somewhere else? I'm not even sure that staying here will accomplish much except to get you beaten up again. How about your brother?" My eyes start to fill with tears again, but I fight them back. "After what Roger did I don't have many friends left. Most people I know avoid me, to keep from being labeled as a fag lover themselves, and even the two people who still treat me normal have to be careful. I haven't seen JJ for ten years, I don't even know where he is now, or if he's even alive. The rest of my family doesn't talk to me. So no, I haven't got anywhere to go really. Maybe you can drop me off at my truck, and I'll see where I end up when my money and gas run out. I'm not gonna stay in this town anymore." 3.2 Micha To be honest I haven't been sleeping for 14 hours straight. I've also been sitting there thinking, and watching Pete sleep. He certainly has to get out of here, something he should have done a year ago if not before. It has always worried me how people can get stuck in a bad situation and not see the necessity of packing up and moving on. My hope has been that I could help him by seeing him on his way, or dropping him off somewhere, but that doesn't seem likely to eventuate. Of course there is always plan C. I am not sure it can be made to work at all, it is pretty much a gamble. The result will be a gamble, the process will be a gamble, and it is even a gamble if Pete will be willing to take the risk and if he trusts me enough or is desperate enough. I've considered it at length. Surely it is a long shot, but it just might work out for the best. Although I certainly don't mind the fact that it means that Pete will be with me for at least a couple more weeks, I wouldn't even suggest it if I felt it would be more harmful than the alternatives. "Pete, I don't think that's gonna work. You have no money, that truck isn't gonna last another thousand miles without some repair work, and frankly you're in no condition to drive a long distance, or to do much work to earn your living. If you want to go through with it, I will try to get you on your way as best I can. At least with your truck serviced and a full tank of gas, plus money and food for a couple of weeks. Beyond that you'll be on your own, and sleeping in that truck in winter doesn't sound like a winner to me. There is an alternative, and please consider it carefully before answering. We'll have breakfast after I've explained it to you, and I don't want an answer until after we're done eating. OK?" Pete nods. "My guess, and correct me if I'm wrong, is that your best bet is probably getting you set up somewhere else, somewhere safer, maybe with your brother, and either getting you back into school or into some kind of employment. I've got contacts that might be able to help. I'm not one for hanging around, so you'd be traveling with me until that's sorted out. I've got a couple of business meetings in Portland, after that I'm probably heading for California. Who knows where fate will take us next. So, think about it, think about the implications of just leaving here, and the fact that it might not work out in the end. I'm pretty confident it will, but I can't make any promises. Now how about breakfast, do you feel like getting up and heading to Denny's down the street already or would you rather eat here in the room? I'm afraid there's not much other food available around here this time of night, and I don't consider McDonalds food." 3.3 Pete "I think I can make it, b-b-b-but I don't have any clothes to put on," I stammer. My head is reeling. Did Micha just offer to take me along on whatever trip he is taking? What trip is he taking anyway? He doesn't seem to have much of an idea where he is going himself. Can I trust him? So far he has treated me well, but wasn't that true of more than one mass murderer, too? On the other hand, if it weren't for him I'd be dead already, and I want, no, make that crave, to be near him. On the third hand, if he turns out to be some kind of weirdo, there are fates worse than death. But then again, what future do I have here? And his remarks about the truck and winter are true. "Use some of mine. We're about the same height. Tighten the belt to keep them from falling off. We'll get something better later." This shakes me out of my reverie, and I start putting on the clothes he has put on the bed for me. Jeans, a t-shirt and a flannel shirt. Easy and comfortable. Moving my arms still hurts, and when I grimace Micha walks up behind me and gently helps me get dressed. "Just take it easy, you've got a couple cracked ribs and some nasty bruises. You'll be sore for a while. Move your arms slowly and it won't hurt too bad. I hope." After I've gotten dressed Micha puts his jacket around my shoulders, and we walk out. He doesn't seem to mind the cold, even though it is freezing. An old Mercedes is parked outside, with Maine plates on it. His? It certainly isn't a rental, not even Rent-a-Wreck has those anymore. If they ever had them in the first place. We get in and drive off, each of us deep in thought. A couple of minutes later finds us tucking into a hearty breakfast, an original grand slam slugger for me and a veggie-cheese omelet with hash browns and toast for him. Seldom has food tasted so good, and before long our plates are clean and seconds have been ordered. He doesn't want an answer until we are done eating, but I have already made up my mind. If Micha doesn't mind me traveling with him, I will go. There is nothing left here for me, and it sounds like the best chance I have. Not to mention that I fell in love with him the first time I saw him, and the selfish thought that he seems to have contacts to get things done. He must have sensed something, and smiles at me. "A penny for your thoughts." "What are you, psychic? You asked me to wait until after breakfast, or whatever you call it in the middle of the night, but yes, if you want me with you, I'll go with you. There's nothing here for me. Besides, I would give up anything for the chance to find my brother, and I love you." Shit, did I just blurt that out? Stupid, stupid, stupid. Last time I did that I ended up with 3 years of misery, and now just as good fortune finally seems to be smiling upon me, I've got to screw it up again. Stupid. Fuck. Strangely enough Micha doesn't seem to mind, and he smiles as he slides a penny across the table to me. "Don't beat yourself up, I did ask for your thoughts and you told me. To tell the truth, although I barely know you I think I love you too, or at least feel a strong attraction to you. But lets take it easy, we both have ghosts in our past, and rushing into something isn't going to do either of us any good. Anyway, welcome aboard, and yes, having just woken up I still call it breakfast regardless of the time of day." He looks past me at the kitchen. "I think our order is about to be delivered, and not a moment too soon. I'm still starved." I pick up the penny and put it in my pocket. We dig into our food and for the next few minutes the only sound coming from our table is of us chewing down our second order. "Micha, now that I've placed myself at your mercy, for whatever that's gonna bring, would you mind telling me something about yourself? Who are you, where are you going, where are you from? That car's not a rental, and I can't place your accent although it seems close to that of the South Africans in Lethal Weapon 2 but you're nicer than that ..."