Date: Fri, 10 Dec 2004 04:31:16 EST
From: Tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: Encounter in the Rain

			   ENCOUNTER IN THE RAIN
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

     The rain battered my body when I ran outside into it, my tears washed
away in an instant. I felt belittled; the entire world was crying right
now. It was pouring in buckets, a torrential downfall, whatever you want to
call it. And cold, cold as hell! I was only wearing a pair of jeans and
might not have had that on if I hadn't turned on the light just when I did
and saw....
     Like a commercial you hate and can't avoid, it played in my mind
again, full color and sound. The two bodies on the bed, both nude, Dave
sitting up and saying, "Oh, it's you." And then over at his partner, the
man he had cheated with, and said, "Sorry, he came home early."
     And the other guy sitting up, casually, unashamed of his perfidy,
saying, "Oh. Hi, there. Sorry." But he didn't look sorry, not at all, just
annoyed at being interrupted.
     A crash of lightening and thunder interrupted my brain signal, thank
God. The rain was harder than ever, falling in thick sheets of rain blown
about by fierce gusts of wind so that the splatters walked across the
sidewalk in visible white lines of dancing drops.
     The lights were on, but with the rain, they were only ghostly circles
of light, giving little comfort or support. People, moved by, shadow-like
wraiths, leaning against the rain, umbrellas held before or behind them
like a shield, their cloth strained, bowing inwards as the wind threatened
to break the fragile ribs apart. But as for me, I had no shield, I was bare
to the elements, lost, alone. I didn't know where to go, I had just bolted
out of the only home I had. Where could I go? Who would want me?
     I huddled against a wall at the mouth of an alley, unprotected by the
rain (there was no protection, it was everywhere), and leaned against the
wet, unforgiving stone, and tried to think through my grief, figure out
what to do.
     "Mark!" came the call. "Mark!"
     It was only Oliver. Our roommate, mine and...his. If I avoided all
thought about him, maybe the memory wouldn't hit me again. But Oliver and
I, the three of us, we had shared a two-bedroom apartment ever since I
moved in, some two months after I had moved to this city. I kept saying
that we should move out and let Oliver find another roommate,
but...he...had always insisted that we wait longer. Now I knew why. Why get
a place alone with someone you have no intention of staying faithful to?
     "Mark!" Oliver called, came up to me. Like me, he was shirtless,
bare-chested to the rain, only he had on a pair of now-soggy sneakers. I
must have awakened him by my shouting, before I ran out, when my anger had
vented itself and all I had left was tears.
     "Come on, Mark." Oliver said, his chest heaving; I was panting too but
not so heavily, I had the benefit of the adrenaline you get in such a time,
the burst toward freedom...or away from danger. I'm not sure which mine
was...yes, I was. I'd been running away. If I'd been running to something,
I wouldn't have stopped here, I'd have known where to go. "Come on back
inside. That other guy will be gone by the time we get back; he was getting
dressed when I left."
     "No!" I said, angry at him, though Oliver had always been the kindest
and gentlest of souls. When I needed someone to talk to, it
wasn't...him...that I talked to, it was Oliver. He would listen carefully
and make suggestions and give advice. And it was Oliver who, on nights like
tonight when I would be working late, would be sure to put something in the
refrigerator for me to heat up or eat cold. His little notes were always
waiting, tacked up by small daisy-flower refrigerator magnets, telling me
just where to look.
     "How long has this been going on?" I demanded of Oliver now. "How long
has he been cheating on me?" I screamed at him.
     Oliver sighed and looked ashamed. "All along." he admitted. "Nearly
every night you stay late at the shop, he goes out. Usually he went to the
other guy's place, though. Sometimes he'd just barely beat you getting
home. He really had it all figured out, until you got off work early
tonight." Oliver took a deep breath. "I kept trying to figure out a way to
tell you what Dave was doing but...ah, hell! You just seemed so happy! And
how was I going to tell you?"
     "Is that why you bought me the condoms?" I said. Oliver had made me
that unexpected gift not long ago. I was out of condoms and had said to him
in passing that, well, since I was in a relationship, maybe I didn't need
them anymore. And Oliver had bought me a large box-full and given them to
me, for no good reason I could see. Now I did see. As long as I had them, I
kept on using them. And I had thought they were getting used faster than
they should have; now I knew why that was, too! Dave and his tricks!
     "Yeah, that's why I bought you the condoms." Oliver said. "Dave isn't
always careful; it's why I won't have sex with him anymore."
     "You, too?" I said. That hurt, Oliver wasn't supposed to be one of the
guys Dave cheated with.
     "No, not after you moved in." he said hastily. "And not for a time
before that, either, but especially not since you moved in with us."
     I looked at Oliver, his hair plastered down flat with the rain, his
body soaking wet and he was shivering. He had come out after me. I did have
a friend, after all!
     And I seized him the way a man grabs a plank in the ocean after a
shipwreck, clung to him and the tears flowed freely again. I put my cheek
on his wet shoulder and I made them wetter, while he held me in his arms
and let me cry.
     "What am I going to do?" I said to him. "I don't have any money! I
deposited it all in his checking account and I can't write checks on it! I
don't even know anyone here in town, just you and...." I bit off that
sentence, said instead, "I don't know where to go!"
     "You won't go anywhere." he said to me. "You're my roommate. You'll
come back with me to our apartment and you'll stay there, for as long as
you want."
     "Sleep on the couch?" I said. I didn't want to do that,
seeing...him...every day. He rose early in the mornings for his own job,
while I worked a lot of evenings. So every morning he would be waking me
up, probably walking through into the kitchen wearing just his briefs, his
body, the body I loved and that loved me, so clean and young and
strong.... And I snuffled on Oliver's shoulder a bit longer, though I
didn't tell Oliver why. "I can't do that." I said through my mutter of
sobs.
     "Well...you can sleep with me." Oliver offered.
     I looked up, looking to see a face of a kindly friend. Instead I
saw...
     Hope. Yearning. Need.
     Oh, hell! I let go and backed away from him. God, this was all I
needed right now! Shit! The burden of dealing with this here, now, made me
angry.
     "Is this how you get your men, Oliver?" I said cruelly. I was hurting,
I wanted everyone around me to hurt, too. "Do you wait until Dave is done
with them and then pick them up and fuck them until they can find another
place to live? Is that why you and he are roommates?"
     "That's not fair!" he protested. An attempt to be practical. "We can
put a sleeping bag down on the floor for you, then. It...it doesn't have to
be sex." And again, there was the slightest failure of honesty in his
voice.
     "But that's what you'd like?" I said and a smile managed to glimpse
briefly through my sorrow, like the sun breaking through clouds. But there
was no sun to be seen anymore and my smile faded away. It hurt my face too
much.
     "Mark, I...God, I wish this was different!" Oliver said. And then, a
forlorn note. "I just wish I'd found you first."
     I looked at him and he was shivering. Hell, I was shivering, too, we
were standing in rain and the temperature was like maybe forty degree and
it was a cold rain, too and getting colder. He didn't look like any knight
in shining armor coming to my rescue. He looked more like a dog, abandoned
by its owners, alone in the world, shivering because it has no home.
     In other words, he looked exactly like me right then.
     And I remembered with sudden clarity his many kindnesses to me. The
way he thought about my comfort and remembered my likes and dislikes, the
way he tried to do things for me, the way Dave never had.
     And in my loneliness, in the way an abandoned dog will pant happily
under the stroking hand of the boy who finds him, eager for adoption, I
said, "I wish you'd found me first, too." I said.
     Oliver's lip trembled and he said, "Mark?" Slowly, kindly...lovingly.
     And I went back to his arms and clung to him. His skin was rumpled
with goosebumps, and I could feel my own back was the same under his
hands. And it's hard to tell with the rain, but I think he had tears in his
eyes, same as mine.
     And then we were kissing and it was wonderful. I wasn't alone any
more, I had never been alone. I'd only thought I was. But I wasn't, and he
was here, right here, standing before me, standing in the cold rain without
a shirt or a jacket, wearing wet jeans and wet sneakers, and me in my bare
feet. I felt his nipples press against my chest like sharp little spears of
frigid flesh. He felt cold, very cold, and the rain sluiced over us,
pouring down, pouring down, washing over us, mauling us, pounding us the
way the world does, but directly and honestly.
     But where we touched each other became warm, warm from each other, and
the rain couldn't get between us. Where my hands touched him, it felt,
somehow, more solid than a man's body normally feels, the rain had
thickened the skin and made it contract and try to hold in the heat. It
made Oliver feel real, very real, nothing fragile about him at all, he was
real and he was here and he would stay here, he would stay.
     I moved my hands down to his jeans, the water squelched between my
fingers as I gripped his buttocks tightly and pulled his body up against
mine. Water, so much water, all of it cold, all of it uncaring, but when we
touched, it had to flee, it had to draw back, it had to make way. I felt
Oliver's hard cock pressing up against mine, and I realized with something
like surprise that my cock was stiff as a pole, too. You aren't supposed to
get an erection the night you've been betrayed...are you?
     But I did and Oliver moaned and rubbed against me, his hunger for me
burned out of him and into my rain-frozen body, he warmed me with his lust,
drove the chill night air away.
     I reached down and kissed his shoulder, that bare shoulder, and water
was there but I sucked it from his body and kissed his skin, his dry skin,
no, the rain couldn't overcome us!
     There is a privacy about a heavy rain. Nobody wants to be out in it,
nobody lingers in it, nobody looks around any more than they have to. In
the mouth of that alley, even with people on the sidewalk less than five
feet away, we were private. Everyone was hunched up against the rain, eyes
squinting, but looking only straight ahead.
     Nobody saw two nearly-naked men kissing in the alley a few feet away
from them.
     Oliver released my lips, "Oh, God, Mark." He breathed. "God!"
     "Please." I begged him. "Please. Right now, right here. Please!"
     "Yeah. Sure." he gasped out. "Sure." He'd take me any way he could get
me, even here, standing in an alley in a cold rain!
     He reached down and fumbled at my jeans and I did the same to him. The
buttons, soaked with rain as they were, defeated us, we broke off and
opened our own flies, and I guided my cock over and the two cockheads
touched and we kissed again. The rain pelted our dicks, the temperature
chilled them, but they stayed hard, hard and hot, our glans caressed each
other, nuzzled like loving kittens nuzzle each other's cheeks.
     Oliver's hand came over and caught hold of my prick and I reached to
grasp his. Again there was this sense of it being somehow more real than
most men's because it was cold, it was wet, it was there! Even as the rain
tickled my arms and shoulders, even as the wind and the moisture froze my
body, the heat inside me was holding me steadfast.
     And Oliver pulled on my pud and it was like a redemption. I mean, Dave
didn't want me, not enough to stay faithful. But Oliver...I hadn't seen him
with anyone in months. And now I knew why, he was wanting me. How could I
have been so blind, to this man, this wonderful caring man, living right
under my own roof?
     And Oliver pulled on my pud and it was like a redemption, it was my
chance to make amends, to give him at long last what he'd desired, my
pleasure, given to him now, now, God, yes, now, here, even here, in this
alley, in this rain, in this cold, even here.
     And Oliver pulled on my pud and it was a redemption and I pumped on
his and his cock kissed mine and came away with a string of sticky precome,
mine or his or both, I'm unsure which, joining us together and it was like
a redemption.
     Oliver moaned, "Oh, God, Mark! Oh, God! Uhhh!"
     And the sounds of his pleasure brought tears to my eyes, and I wanted
to give him more pleasure, to hear more from him and I dropped to my knees
and landed with a splash and Mark groaned and groaned again as my mouth
caught his cock and drew it inside of me. And it was warm, so warm, I
didn't taste the rain on it at all.
     I drew the thick foreskin out until it was folded lumps of velvet on
my tongue, then slid back down and it rippled out to spread itself thinner
to cover the shaft as I moved down, taking him deeper, deeper, until it was
strained and the ripples were present again, this time outside my mouth,
puckered in rings around the base of his shaft, I could feel them on my
lips.
     In slow movements, I milked Oliver's cock, wanting this moment, this
time, with Oliver above me and moaning in his pleasure, I wanting this
moment to last. His cock was hot, so hot in this ocean of cold, that I
didn't recognize the heat for what it was, not until Oliver's groans rose
up to a crescendo and he was holding back, moaning out, "God, God, I'm
coming, I'm coming, pull off, pull off, pull off!"
     He held it back in exquisite agony until I understood and released him
and barely took his shaft in my hand when he erupted, spewing his jizz all
over my face and my chest! It pelted me like rain, but this rain was hot,
hot, and it was more than the rain could ever be, as it splashed me it
owned me, it was like a christening, I was Oliver's man now, Oliver's, and
I had a place again, the lost dog had found a boy to go home with.
     Gulping, panting, Oliver shot the last dregs of his wads out, a thick
white dribble out of his cock, and the rain washed my face and my chest and
pelted the hanging strand of Oliver's prick. "Oh, God, oh, God, I nearly
came in your mouth!" he gasped out. He was worried about my safety, worried
about me. You have to be abandoned to know how precious that is!
     Chest heaving the way it had when he had run up to me, he looked down
and said, "Now you."
     I stood up and he grabbed me and nearly pushed me backwards, I ended
up seated on a garbage can I hadn't noticed was there, I landed with a
clang-bang-clang! And Oliver was down on one knee and he was grabbing my
cock and stuffing it into his face!
     Raw electrical joy coursed through my veins from his touch, that warm
mouth plying on me and over me. It was an intensity I hadn't known since
the early days with Dave, when the love is new and bright and shining and
nothing mars it in the least, pure love, unadulterated and undiluted with
the rain.
     I balanced teetering on the garbage can while Oliver sucked on me with
a ferocity I hadn't known he possessed, he wanted me, all of me, inside of
him all at once, and at the same time he wanted to move my cock-skin to
give me pleasure, he compromised by moving with a speed that startled me
and drove my joy to untouched heights.
     The garbage can wobbled and I clutched to the wall with my hands,
holding myself in place by the friction of my palms, and in this precarious
position is when I attained to my climax.
     "Oh, God, I'm coming!" I gasped out quickly and that quickly, I was
coming. Oliver barely pulled away before I splattered him, a thick wad
hitting his cheek, the next arcing high to land upon his back and shoulder
and he pumped me and my spurts hit his chest, he wanted them to hit his
chest, he offered it to me by putting his body in the way of the shots, and
I adorned him with my come the way he had adorned me.
     And the rain again washed it away, I saw my jizz dripping down and off
his body, water chasing it off in a way that mere gravity couldn't manage,
and I smiled and I touched his hair, all soaking wet and it squeaked in my
hand, I felt it squeak though I couldn't hear it, and he grinned back at
me.
     Shivered. "Mark, can we go home now? I'm cold."
     "Me, too." I agreed. "Let's get the fuck out of here. We'll move my
stuff into your room tomorrow morning before I go in to work."
     The walk back was in rain, hard rain that made talking difficult and
it gave me time to think.
     Would Oliver and I really make this work? The story of the man on the
rebound is so old that it's a cliche. In another world, we wouldn't have
had this burden, the spectre of Dave hanging over us, the past we shared in
all its unglory. Thinking this, I looked at him and he looked at me and he
smiled, and it was a good smile.
     Yeah. I think we can make this work.
     I sure hope so.

				  THE END
		   Comments, complaints or suggestions?
		  E-mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM