Date: Thu, 18 Sep 2003 01:09:20 -0700 (PDT) From: Michael Garrison Subject: Two Lives - Two Loves: Chapter 11 This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. This story also deals with love and consensual sexual activities between men. If you are not of legal age, reside in an area where viewing such material is illegal, or are offended by such themes, do not read further and leave this site now. The author retains all rights to this story. Reproductions or links to other sites are not allowed without the permission of the author. Two Lives - Two Loves Chapter 11 Knowing what was coming...sorry, no pun intended...in no way lessened my enjoyment of our time together that afternoon. Make no mistake, however...Doing it in front of a camera still felt weird, even if we were totally alone. In what I'd soon come to understand was a very real sense, we'd already done it for the camera in that strange double dream, but that in no way eased my oddly prudish sensibilities. Man...what a mind-fuck that dream was! In an odd way, though, I was finding that the dreams actually helped to give me a greater appreciation for the real, for the here and the now. They helped to give me a greater appreciation of Jon and the simple state of just being together, of the simple act of making love with my best friend. After one of those dreams, I wanted nothing more in the world than to hold him tight, to be held tightly by him and to convince myself that those dreams were just my imagination screwing with me. In the few days since Jon and I had crossed that threshold from being just best friends to being lovers, it felt like a lot of ground had been crossed and it seemed like we were almost living a lifetime together in those few days. From my perspective, at least, there was a growing intensity to our couplings that...I dunno; I'd never experienced anything like it before and I can't really describe it except to say that I was finding that there was an all too brief moment when, as our bodies were flooded with those wonderful endorphins, we were like one person. Increasingly, it was like our flesh and blood bodies did not exist at that singular, electrical moment and that whatever ethereal thing it is that defines us as two, blended to make us one. I know that sounds just way too dorky to be believed but I don't know how else to put it. I was finding myself wishing I could just lose myself in that moment with Jon forever, hanging motionless with him, as if in soothingly warm mid- air, as everything about us locked together, making us one completely whole, completely satisfied being. "Thank you," I whispered in Jon's ear as he lay with his head in my neck, his hot breath warming me. "You're welcome," he whispered back as he stretched, softly groaning with intense satisfaction as he slowly engulfed me further in his arms, sliding easily across his still warm discharge there between us. I closed my eyes and just held him for a few wonderful moments, savoring that warm lingering afterglow, caressing his back as his legs stretched out slowly and curled around mine. It would be just then that my stomach let out a long, very noticeable growl. Jon snickered. We both did. "Yeah, I'm starting to get hungry, too," he said as he pushed himself up. "Let's get a shower and get you started on dinner," I said. "I'm feeling like grilled pork chops tonight. Whadda ya think?" I drawled. "I hope we have some. We'll check it out." "Cool," I said. "...you can turn the camera off, too, stud." The camera's disk had apparently filled some time ago and had shut itself off. * * * * We tried to make the shower short, both of us were getting really hungry, but that didn't stop us from lingering under the warm spray with our mouths locked together, our arms draped around each other. There was something just so relaxing and incredibly hot about doing it in the shower, the warm water cascading over us, allowing us to move easily against each other. And then my stomach decided to intervene again with another loud growl. With tongues still probing, Jon's did the same and we couldn't keep from chuckling. "'Kay, dude," he said. "We gotta hit the pause button. I think we've got about a half hour before we starve so we need to get dinner going." "'Kay, dude," I agreed mimicking him, grinning at his smiling smirk in reply. We dried each other as in my dream and as in my dream I lingered over him a bit longer than really necessary, teasing him. He loved it, I know. I did too, but our stomachs were starting to get violent. I tossed my towel into a corner of the bath where a pile was developing that wasn't getting any smaller. Jon tossed his in as well. "I don't suppose your uncle arranged for maid service, did he?" I asked, cocking my thumb back towards the pile of damp towels. "You're lookin' at it," Jon said, pointing into the mirror at the two of us standing there naked. "Hmm...not exactly what I had in mind." "Be brave, Big Boy," he said with whimsical sarcasm as he pulled on his shorts, chuckling at his amusing little alliteration. "...we can handle it; we're grown now," he added, putting a calming, and patronizingly humorous, hand on my shoulder. "We'll deal with it tomorrow...or thereabouts." We finished dressing and went down to the kitchen. It wasn't night yet but the whole downstairs was pretty dark. We'd been upstairs so long that we hadn't noticed that the light gray, overcast and rainy sky had turned into a really dark gray, overcast and rainy sky. Except for our footsteps on the floorboards and the rugs, the place was as quiet and dark as a tomb. That unnerved me just a little and I wasted no time in flicking on every light I passed by. Jon hit the kitchen first and swatted at the light switch, waking the overhead lights from their slumber. I grabbed for the remote...ah, that was so much better...the comforting noise and animation of the TV. "'s'get that beer goin'!" I called in my thicker southern accent, walking up behind Jon and playfully shaking him by the shoulders. "C'mon! c'mon!" He just slowly turned and glared at me with that hands-on-hips-disapproving-schoolmarm kind of look. I flashed my best smile at him just to let him know I was only being a pain in the ass for the sake of amusement. It was a minor payback for the times he'd done that sort of thing to me. "Can you at least let me open the fridge first," he asked slowly, a faint smile finally starting to cross his face. He knew I didn't mean anything by it. "No!" I mockingly whined. "Beer me now!" Jon began to laugh, "Beer you?" I'd accomplished my mission to pester the crap out of him until he laughed. I abruptly stopped the drama queen bit as he opened the door and handed out an icy bottle. We snapped off the tops and I flicked around the channels until I found some innocuous offering on the Sci-Fi Channel. It was some movie I'd never seen before and looked mildly interesting but I was more interested in it just for the background noise. I hadn't grown up in an urban setting so I really didn't have the exposure to the constant noise that a lot of my city friends did, but I liked having background noise around. I got very edgy when things were too quiet. Especially lately. "We do have pork chops," Jon called from the fridge. "You wanna grill 'em?" Remembering, I agreed and asked him to help me drag the grill out of the rain under the patio awning. As before, I volunteered to get the grill going while he started prepping the food. And as before, when I went back in, there he was with his little smile and his new dive knife strapped to his leg, not looking at me but fighting back a smile as he wondered whether I noticed his new toy. And as before, he looked too hot with it strapped to that tight leg of his and I fawned all over him with compliments, which was an easy task...even the second time around. And as before, he smiled and asked me to go get my dive knife so he could see how hot I looked wearing it. But this time... "Can't, baby; I left it somewhere," I said. "I was thinking about getting a new one anyway when we go back to Dave's." It was a total lie and Jon pouted a bit but I was in no fucking mood to tempt fate by going back out to the carriage house again only to find myself back in reruns of my own Sci- Fi Original Series. I soothed him a little, putting my hands on his hips. Resting my forehead on his, I assured him that he looked hot enough for the both of us for now as I let my hands slowly glide around to cup his ass. "...but you'd better start doin' those chops before I start doin' a rump roast, you know?" I said. "Yeah, yeah," he said, blushing slightly as he went back to seasoning the meat. I couldn't recall ever having seen him blush before. Captain Football Hero...blushing. It was too sickeningly cute for words. Jon went out and inspected the grill, turning the fire up a little. He preferred a hot fire...claimed it seared the juices in. I wasn't so sure about that but I deferred; he was a better cook than I was, that's for sure. After a couple of minutes, he brought out a plate with four huge chops all spiced up with some green stuff and a couple of big foil wrapped potatoes. Placing it all carefully over the fire and adjusting the height, he closed the grill and let them go. "Those chops were still kinda frozen. I hope this works out," he said. "What's'at green shit?" I asked. "That 'green shit', as you so delicately put it, is dill," he answered, just a touch offended. I looked at him, puzzled. The only thing I knew about dill was pickles, and Jon could tell. "Trust me, you'll love it." "I'll give it a shot," I shrugged indifferently as we stood under the awning, drinking our beer and watching what little light there was fade to black. The rain just seemed as steady as ever. The ground was so soaked, we were starting to get splattered and decided to go back in. "Check out the Weather Channel," Jon said. "This rain's getting on my nerves." I flicked over. In a few minutes, 'Local on the 8's' came up and confirmed our fears: Rain, more rain and nothing but the rain for probably three days running. "Shit," I sighed, switching back to the background noise. "I think we've wasted our money on the dive gear this week." "Hmm," Jon harrumphed. "I was looking forward to that, too." "That's not gonna make Ron real happy, either." "Yeah, he really sounded up for it. I guess we're just gonna have to wait to see how his taste in swimming trunks runs, huh?" Jon winked. "Yeah," I laughed. "I guess we'll just hang out tomorrow if this doesn't let up." "Those chops might take a while," he said. "...pop in one of the movies." I selected the "Navy Seals" flick and popped it in. I waited with my thumb on the play button while all the usual endless stuff ran across the screen. Finally, the main menu came up. "Hey, look!" I said with mock animation, "They actually snuck a movie in here!" "Geez, how'd that happen?" Jon sneered. "Someone at the studio's probably gonna get canned for that," he said his sneer giving way to a chuckle. We cracked open a couple more beers, settled on the couch and propped our feet up to watch the flick. Jon glanced at his watch, checking to see when he had to turn the meat. We had enough time, I think. He sidled over next to me, shoulder to shoulder, and we rested our hands inside of each other's thighs. Not a bad way to start an evening...a fairly decent action flick, good company and a nice little buzz starting. I'd almost forgotten why I rented that movie in the first place until a scene came up with one of the sexier young seals dressed in a wetsuit. "Niiiiice," I heard Jon say quietly. "Dude, rain or no rain tomorrow, we're goin' back to Dave's and get me one of those!" he said. "No argument here," I said, smiling as I slowly kneaded the inside of Jon's leg. He started to burrow his back into the cushions a bit more until something caught my nose's attention. "Jon, you'd better check the food. I think I smell something burning." "Shit!" Jon muttered as he jumped up and vaulted over the back of the sofa. I hit the pause button as he hit the doors and disappeared outside. He came back in a few minutes later. "Everything all right?" I asked. "Yeah, I think I got 'em in time. They should be done soon." I hit the play button again and we just kind of let the movie be background while we set the table and got the rest of the food ready. I cracked open a couple more beers while Jon brought in the meat and potatoes. "Damn, that smells good," I mentioned to him. I never would have thought dill would work on pork chops but it smelled fantastic. "It's even better when they're roasted," he said. "You ever thought of becoming a chef instead of a doctor?" I kidded. "Nah," Jon said. "Making it a job would just suck all the fun out of it for me." "Mmm," I muttered agreement as we sat down, not really paying attention to the movie anymore. It'd served its purpose from my perspective. "There's so much better stuff to suck out of you, anyway," I smiled with a way too dramatic sideways glance. "Oh, just shut up and eat," Jon said, waving his fork at my plate, trying not to betray a smile. "Does your mind always have to be in the gutter?" "It likes to have fun there occasionally," I quipped. "Well, more than occasionally, really...more like..." "Eat!" he boomed, a little annoyed that I was using one of his own favorite little pestering tactics on him. * * * * I'm pretty much like a goat. I'll eat anything that's put in front of me without too much complaint...except for anchovies; can't stand the little bastards...but I have to say that Jon did an excellent job with the food. I don't know what or how his mother taught him in the kitchen, but she did a really good job at it. We finished up and got things put away. Jon's mother would've been pleased that we weren't living like a couple of Neanderthals. The movie ended and we switched over to the History Channel to see if R. Lee was on. Nope, missed him...shame...he's just so entertainingly over the top. Now we were stuck with one of those offbeat little in depth histories they do about some of the most inane things. Tonight it was the history of lunchboxes. "You have got to be kidding me," I said. "Lunchboxes? They actually spend money on this?!" "Looks like," Jon sighed. "At least the one about fast foods was half way interesting." "Lunchboxes," I muttered again, still not believing it. "Why don't they just do a history of dirt? That'd probably be just as interesting," I said with my usual dab of sarcasm as I surfed around, smashing the channel button quickly, not finding anything that looked even vaguely entertaining. I wish someone would explain to me why it is that whenever I want to do some channel surfing, there always seems to be a commercial on every channel. It doesn't matter what time, there just always seems to be a commercial on every damn channel. "Oh, well," I said, giving up and handing the remote to Jon. "See if you're luck's any better than mine." "Well," Jon started, setting the remote on the counter. "...why don't we crack open another couple of beers and watch our own video?" he said with a smiling lilt of his eyebrows. I paused for a second or two, staring blankly at Jon as I let that thought sink in. I don't know why I didn't think of that...must've been the beer doing its work. "Go get it," I smiled. "Be right back," he said, turning and heading upstairs. I couldn't pry my eyes off of that great ass of his, attached to those fabulous legs with his new dive knife strapped to his left calf...the whole composition was just too hot. I could almost feel the blood in my brain beginning to head south. Jon was back in a few moments, camcorder in hand, and flipped open the side compartment to get at our DVD. Fumbling a little with nervousness, Jon plopped it into the tray and hit the Close button. "Whassa matter, hero? Nervous?" I asked mockingly as I needled him in both ribs with my index fingers, laughing as he jumped. "Hey!" he yelped as he swatted at one of my hands. Jon was really, really ticklish. If fingers got anywhere near his ribs he nearly went into orbit. "Make yourself useful and hit the lights," he said, settling into the sofa. "Yes, dear," I replied in a soft, housewife kind of voice. The room finally darkened except for the soft glow of the TV, I sat down next to Jon and we nestled in together as he hit the Play button. There was nothing but static for a short while and a notation across the bottom of the TV screen that said 'No Signal'. "Great," Jon muttered to himself with a note of disdain. "You sure you know how to work that thing?" I asked, pointing at the camcorder resting on the side of the entertainment system. "I mean, I'd hate to think we did all that great lovin' for nothin'," I said, barely able to restrain a smile as Jon looked at me blankly, incredulously. Then the light changed, drawing our attention back to the TV. It'd worked after all. Jon turned up the sound. It was a little muffled but it wasn't too bad. There was Jon's unfocused, robe-clad torso filling the lens, then he moved around behind the camera, revealing me lying there on the bed in all my nakedness. I smiled a little. Maybe it was because I was half buried in the sheets, but I thought my body looked longer than I thought it was. If it was just an optical illusion, I was enjoying it. "Say 'cheese'," Screen-Jon said from behind the camera as he started fiddling with the focus. "I got yer cheese right here," Screen-Me said as I flipped him off. That part was finally in focus. Jon and I both laughed at that. Finally, Jon stepped back in front of the camera and ditched his robe, revealing his totally awesome silhouette...to say nothing of his totally awesome erection. Quickly followed by my own little mast. We laughed again. "Oooo...Nice reaction time," Jon critiqued as he leaned against me more, resting a hand on the inside of my thigh. I rested my hand on his but didn't say a word. I found myself a little speechless as I slowly guided his hand further to the inside of my leg where I could feel the faint beginning of the building of that familiar tension. From then, we watched wordlessly...as Jon climbed on top of me and slowly rolled the condom over my erection, causing my own to begin quickly growing again in the here and now, growing even harder as Jon applied the lube to himself. I could feel Jon press a little harder on my leg, drawing his own legs up under him as Screen-Jon slowly settled down on top of Screen-Me. I could almost feel the heat again as his tight warmth swallowed me, completely enveloping me, and I think we both moaned a little as our digital counterparts did the same but a little more loudly than us. There was nothing wrong with the sound now, I'll tell you that! Eyes closed, operating solely by touch, Screen-Jon bent over and rested his arms against my pecs, gripping them slightly as he began a slowly, steady, pulsing rhythm. Screen-Me's hands gripped the inside his knees as he did so, burrowing my head back into the pillow and began finding my own rhythm to match his, both of us sighing in expectant satisfaction. I could take no more. I was going to explode if I didn't do something soon. "C'mon," I said, jumping up from the couch, pulling Jon up by his elbow. "What?!" Jon asked, surprised by the suddenness of my action. "Whadda ya mean, 'what'?" I said urgently. "C'mon!" "OH!" he said, the realization finally dawning. He went to pick up the remote to stop the playback as I pulled him in the direction of the stairs, in the direction of our bed. "Leave it," I commanded as I pulled harder at his arm. He dropped the remote back onto the sofa and we headed up as our little home video continued to play merrily along. We dashed up the stairs like we had the first time Jon and I had done it together. This time, however, it wasn't at all about making love. We both knew that. We both accepted that. And right then, we both wanted that. Whether anyone liked it or not... as if anyone else would have a say in the matter...this was strictly about absolutely, positively nothing more than just flat out doing the nasty and we were both cool with that. This was all about our urgent need to urgently release the spermazodic...is that a real word? Fuck it; it is now...fluids that were urgently approaching critical mass. We stripped off our clothes as quickly as we could, but I had a little difficulty with my briefs getting hung up on my erection...and any guy who tells you he hasn't had that problem before is a damn liar. I noticed Jon had the same problem but we both got past it. He noticed he was still wearing his dive knife and bent down to unstrap it. "Leave it," I commanded again. He looked up with a 'You sure?' sort of look at the sound of my voice. "It makes you look hotter somehow," I confirmed with stressful immediacy. "Here, lube up..." I said, tossing him the tube. "...and be generous," I advised as I went for a condom. Wouldn't you know it...the fucking box was empty. I was glad I'd bought more than one but right then I didn't appreciate the added little time-wasting annoyance of having to rip open a new box while my balls continued to scream at me for relief. But I tore it open and yanked out a section of condoms, spilling the rest out onto the floor, ripping the one on the end free of its perforations and tearing the pack open. I pulled it down over my tip, hard enough that I thought it might rip, and rolled it quickly down over the rest of me. Jon was already in bed, waiting. He, too, had that look of urgency as he spread his legs, readying himself to accept me. "C'mon, baby...," he whispered, sitting up on his elbows, his fingers motioning for me to come on, making me harder, if that was at all possible. "Oh, yeah, baby, I just wanna fuck you," I whispered back as I stared at the tousled blond laid out there before me. I don't know where the words were coming from; they just fell out of my mouth. "Do it, stud!" he whispered again in that wonderful bedroom voice of his, trailing off, resting his hands on the sides of my thighs as I spread his legs wide, pushing them aside to give me better access. My hand overlapped the sheathed knife strapped to Jon's leg as I spread him, its hard feel only slightly harder than Jon's own muscles. It was strange but I really loved the feel of it; it made the whole scene really hot somehow. I let go of his other leg just long enough to guide myself to his entry, pushing in slightly to seat myself then grabbing his leg again, pushing it aside as I pushed into him, slowly. Jon didn't even wince. We'd done it enough now that he was getting used to me. The fact that we'd both had enough beer and that he'd used a ton of lube had something to do with it, too; I'm sure. Our eyelids just reflexively, slowly closed and we both moaned a little in tentative relief as I pushed into him as far as I could go, holding it there for just a moment, then flexing myself once or twice, enjoying the heat of him, the tight feel of him. Jon sighed a little and I began to slowly pull back. It didn't take long for us to put our brains in neutral and let our animal instincts have full reign over our tense bodies. For a few moments, I was not Brad Williams. It was like I was outside of myself and I was just an organic machine determined to rid itself of this welling tension as quickly as possible. My pace quickened. My hips began to thrust faster, plunging me in and out of the tight body beneath me that was moaning with staccato pleasure; that body that for the moment was not Jon Shepard but was just another organic machine that also desperately needed relief. Every now and then, I thought I heard it whisper the same phrase again and again...'oh yeah, oh yeah'... like a song caught in a loop. Fortunately, eloquence was simply not under consideration at the moment. That body beneath me, my receptacle, wore an expression of squinted ecstasy. Like me, its lips were pulled back just enough to reveal two rows of white brilliance separated by a wide chasm that grunted with each of my thrusts, as its hand traversed its own length with the same trip hammer like speed and efficiency with which my hips thrust me in and out of it. Its breathing was becoming shallower, faster; it was approaching release. It grunted, quietly at first, then reaching a pulsing crescendo as its hot fluid pumped copiously out onto its pecs and abs. Its primal cries were an exhortation to me, my body finally reaching climax as I pushed its legs further apart, thinking I heard it moan for a second, and slammed myself into it as far as I could possibly go. I felt the moment come. I tried to hold it back, to try to savor that warm, electrical moment as long as I could, but there was no holding it back and I released as my body tensed, my arms wrapping around its legs to steady myself. I felt the familiar, rapturously pleasurable pulsing, the warm passage of my own fluids into the sheathing that separated me by scant microns from the taut, warm surroundings. I gave a few, very short extra thrusts into it, instinct making sure I got it all out, and the body beneath me yelped slightly with each. The pumping finally stopped. Rivulets of sweat fell down into my eyes, stinging slightly, and I wiped them away before falling on top of the body, our chests working hard to bring in the air we both very much needed. My arms found their way around its back and its around mine as we lay there for a while, each of us returning to sanity, the madness fading. We began to realize, again, who we were, that he was Jon Shepard, that I was Brad Williams, that we were lovers and that we both loved each other more than anyone or anything in the world. "I love you," I whispered as I covered his mouth with my own, my tongue probing, finding his. Jon moaned with happy satisfaction and shifted his weight a little, finding his personal sweet spot. And I felt his hand on my back, his fingernails lightly scratching, finding my personal sweet spot. I moaned, too, never breaking my lips away from his. THIS was when we should have had the camcorder! * * * * All the while Jon and I'd been upstairs, our personal little DVD had still been playing happily along downstairs. After it had ended, the machine just went into standby and displayed a blue screen on the TV with the DVD player's logo, as we'd find it the next morning. We'd have to get around to watching it again...well, more like finish watching it, to be more precise. When we did get around to finishing it, we might see, for the first time, the strange little white, almost transparent sphere that seemed to slowly come out of the wall on the other side of the bed from the camera. We'd see it slowly circle, as if inspecting us. We'd see it hover in between us, just standing there, as Jon and I made love earlier that afternoon. Then we'd see it slowly disappear back into the wall from which it had come, right beneath an old, antique mirror that was there more for decoration rather than practicality. And in that mirror, we'd probably see the faint, the very faint, non-reflected visage of a man staring down at us with a blank expression. The same man who was again staring down at us now as we lay in bed, a squirming, tangled mass of arms and legs, totally oblivious to everything but each other. * * * * To Be Continued