Date: Thu, 22 Feb 2007 14:50:01 EST
From: RitchChristopher@cs.com
Subject: but-who-knows-where-or-when-4
All rights reserved. Copyright held by the author. If you are underage or
are offended by gay fiction, containing graphic sex and explicit language,
please exit now.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
"But Who Knows Where or When?"
Copyright Ritchris, 2007
A Story
by
Ritch Christopher
literary enhancement by
Les Martin
<><><><><>
chapter four
<><><><><>
"Sometimes you think you've lived before
all that you live today.
Things you do come back to you
as though they knew the way.
Oh, the tricks your mind can play!"
excerpted from "WHERE OR WHEN"
from Rodgers and Hart's "Babes in Arms"
copyright 1937
<><><><><>
The ensuing weekend was sheer hell for Kent, but the doc had
instructed him to stay in, no partying, and so it was DVD's, magazines,
card games (particularly 'Texas Hold'Em'), even a pre-season college
football game on TV--anything to pass time---anything to avoid the
slightest mention of the kiss or the embraces they'd shared in bed Friday
night. Somehow they'd managed and now Monday had arrived---it was time to
go face the news, good or bad, to be delivered by Blaine at his office. Rex
had volunteered to drive his buddy to the appointment. To explain his
absence from football practice, Rex called the coach to say that Kent
wasn't feeling well and needed someone to take him to the doctor. The coach
wasn't too pleased but he knew that Kent must really be sick because his
number one quarterback wouldn't miss practice unless it was for a good
reason.
Rex drove, occasionally glancing at Kent who sat silently looking
out the side window. The resulting quiet weighed heavily on Rex. Was Kent
avoiding conversation for fear Kent might remember everything that had
passed between them on Kent's bed after Kent had gotten high on his meds OR
was Kent simply anxious about the findings from the scan reports? Finally
Rex decided that, if Kent wanted to remain quiet during the drive, it was
probably better for both of them.
Arriving at Blaine's office, Rex told Kent that he'd stay in the
car until Kent's appointment was over. In a half-hearted attempt at a
joke, Kent asked, "You aren't coming in for Blaine's special treatment on
your prostate?"
"No, I think one time was enough for me. I might have Debbie or
Sandy try it on me the next time I date either of them. It's just not the
kind of thing a guy does a 'second' time with his own brother-in-law!" Rex
replied.
"Chickenshit!"
"You go on! Let Blaine play with YOUR asshole. Me? I want no part
of it!"
"Okay! I hope I won't be long...ESPECIALLY, I hope it's good news!"
"It will be! Quit your worrying!"
"That's like trying to imagine there's not an elephant in the
living room after Jumbo has shit turd logs all over the sofa!"
"That's quite an analogy! Is that why the sofa smells so peculiar?
I hadn't noticed the elephant!" Rex joked. "Now go see Blaine and think
happy thoughts!"
Kent got out of the car and began to hum, Chopin's Marche Funèbre
in C minor, "Dum dum de dum da da da da dum de dum..."
"Shut the fuck up, will you! God, you can be so morbid at times!"
Rex snapped.
Kent responded by turning around to face Rex in the car and
saluting with his right hand stretched forward, "Morituri salutamus!"
"You say one more thing like that and I'll get out of this car and
belt you one!"
"Sorry. I guess I was psyching myself up for bad news!"
"It WON'T be bad. I promise!"
"How can you be so sure, Rex?"
"Listen, I just KNOW these things. Look, I'm so fucking confident
that you don't have cancer, I'll make you a deal. If it's bad news, I'll
bend over and you can poke three fingers up my ass! That's how sure I am!"
"What if I lie, just to let me do that to you?"
"IF you lie, I'll ram my whole hand up YOUR ass and everyone will
think you're my puppet!"
Kent laughed, then turned and went inside Blaine's office. The
anteroom was once again filled with patients to see Blaine or
Dr. Whitcomb. Phoebe looked up from her desk and said, "Kent! I'm glad to
see that you're right on time. Go right in! Dr. Rogers is expecting you!"
A few people waiting, recognized the Epperson U. quarterback. One
young woman looked ready to swoon at Kent's good looks. Kent smiled at
Phoebe, thanked her and entered the door to the clinic, looking for Miss
Frazier, Blaine's sexy nurse, but she was nowhere to be seen, but Blaine
was coming out of another examining room, followed by a young boy and his
mother. Blaine handed two prescriptions to the mother to have them filled
for her son and bade them goodbye. Looking up and seeing Kent, Blaine waved
at him and signaled for him to go into his private office.
Kent slowly went inside the office and sat down. Blaine entered the
office and sat at his desk, facing Kent. Neither of them made the 'magic'
eye-contact at once. Kent was staring at Blaine to see if he could read any
thoughts, either good or bad, that Blaine was about to break to him.
"Your...uh...your reports came back," Blaine said, opening the
conversation.
"All of them?"
"Yes. First let me check your arm to see about the TB test."
Kent had all but forgotten about that as he held up his arm for
Blaine to examine.
"Clean, huh?"
"Looks that way. I don't think we have to worry about your having
TB."
"That's SOME good news, isn't it, Doctor?"
"Yes, that IS good news!" Blaine replied as he rifled through a few
folders on the corner of his desk. "Ah, here we are!". Blaine looked over
the ten or twelve page report carefully and the pleasant look on his face
turned into a slight frown. Kent noticed it immediately and in almost an
automatic reaction, Kent grabbed the arms of his chair tightly to brace
himself for what he KNEW Blaine had to say to him.
"You looked worried, Doctor. It's not good, is it?"
"Some good, some not so good!"
"Let's hear the 'not so good' news first!"
"Kent, when I agree to see a patient and treat him, he or she
becomes an extension of myself. I try to feel as he or she feels when
they're in pain or have a disease and I treat them accordingly, as if I
were treating myself. So whatever I find wrong. if anything, I do my best
to empathize with him or her as I were treating myself. That way, it's not
just the patient that's concerned or trying to combat an illness---WE do it
together. The patient never has to face his illness alone."
"The report says I have cancer, doesn't it?" Kent asked, with a dry
throat.
"Yes, Kent, it does."
"How bad?"
"I won't lie. It's serious. The swelling in your testicle is just
as I surmised...orchitis. THAT we can treat and cure with antibiotics. I
believe that it was your good cells trying to combat the cancer that caused
the swelling."
"Has it spread to other organs in my body?"
"Looking at all the tests and scans, it would appear that it's only
in your testicles."
"You said, testicles...plural!"
"Yes, I did."
"So what do I..?"
"WE!"
"What do 'we' do?"
"As a practicing physician, I seldom prescribe radiation. Often,
radiation can damage unaffected tissue. Other doctors swear by it...but I
don't. I mean if you want to go to another physician, say, a urologist, for
a second opinion, please feel free to do so."
"How would you treat it?"
"Surgery...followed by chemo, if necessary. Quite often, we can
remove it all with NO chemo. We prescribe chemo as a prophylactic
procedure."
"Then I lose my hair, get weak, and throw up everything I eat."
"Yes, well, that does come with chemo...most of the time."
"Would you have to remove BOTH of my testicles or does one just
have a partial cancer and it can be saved?"
"Your swollen testicle has a rather large tumor growing on it. The
other is not quite as big. It's possible that we might be able to remove
the smaller one and save your 'good' testicle." Kent's face had turned
white and his forehead beaded with perspiration, as if he were about to
faint. "Hey, big guy, let me get you some water!" Blaine rushed to the
water dispenser in his office and retrieved a paper cone of water and
handed it to Kent.
Kent drank the water in one gulp. Blaine reached for the cup and
filled it again. Kent also swallowed that quickly. Blaine picked up Kent's
wrist to check his pulse and the very second Kent felt Blaine touch him,
Kent broke out in tears. Blaine dropped Kent's arm and put his hand around
Kent's head and drew it into his abdomen to let Kent cry. With his free
hand, Blaine began stroking Kent's hair. Without thinking, Blaine lowered
his head to the top of Kent's and kissed the crown of Kent's hair.
"Oh, God, God, God, what am I gonna do?" Kent cried.
"We're gonna get you well, that's what WE'RE gonna do..."
"But, I won't be a man any longer..." Kent cried out again.
"Of course you will. Hey, you're not gonna lose your penis. It's
not like you need a sex change."
"Yes, but I'll be the butt of every joke on the team."
"That's nonsense!"
"What girl is gonna date a guy with no balls...LITERALLY with no
balls?"
"They won't have to know!"
"Shit, when I have sex, the girl always holds my balls!"
"So we'll replace them with prosthetic testicles."
"WHAT?"
"They come in all sizes, weights...various materials...plastic,
silicone, heck, I even knew one guy...an admiral on a naval ship who wanted
STEEL balls."
"You're kidding?"
"Nope!"
"And did he get them?"
"Sure did. In prosthetic devices, the companies who make them go
out of their way to please the patients."
"But my parents always wanted grandchildren!"
"So, before, and IF, we decide to operate, you'll go to a sperm
bank, masturbate into a cup and have your sperm frozen. THEN when you meet
your lady love, she can have YOUR baby WITH your sperm. You can have dozens
of kids."
"You make it all so hopeful."
"Cancer is no longer 'the end', Kent! It's a beginning of a new way
of life."
"I suppose you think I'm acting like a big baby. I mean, guys and
gals lose an arm, leg. or sometimes both in wartime...and here I am crying
like an idiot over losing my balls!"
"Kent, losing any part of your body is traumatic. Suppose you got
kicked in the mouth playing football and you lost your two front teeth. You
have a date next weekend with the girl of your dreams and you're scared to
death she will see you toothless and you freak out until.."
"Until I go to the dentist and have two false teeth inserted to
replace them!" Kent said, finishing Blaine's sentence.
"Exactly!"
"Doctor?"
"I thought you were going to call me Blaine..."
"Blaine?"
"Yes."
"This doctor/patient confidentiality..."
"What about it?"
"Would ANYONE besides you and me HAVE to know about the cancer and
the surgery. I mean, if there was some way of keeping if from my parents or
the team..."
"Kent, I'm afraid this year---and probably next year, too---won't
find you on a football team, but as far as anyone besides you and me
knowing...the hospital, the operating staff, or anyone who treats you
medically will know...but THEY, too, are sworn to privileged
information. Your insurance company would know, but their records are
supposed to remain sealed also. Your parents wouldn't have to know. I mean
if they wondered about your surgery, you could always tell a white lie and
say that you ruptured your scrotum and you're going to have it
repaired. Lots of athletes suffer various kinds of ruptures or hernias that
require surgery."
"Do you think I should tell Rex?"
"Only if you plan to live with him after your recovery."
"Do you suppose HE could keep our secret?"
"That depends on how much you two care for each other."
"He's like my brother...and I love him as much."
"And Rex?"
"I think he feels the same about me."
"Where is that jackass, anyway? I thought he wanted a special
prostate treatment."
"HA! He chickened out! He's in his car outside."
"If you feel you can trust him...AND if he's going to be your
'nurse' during your recovery and rehabilitation, would you like to go
outside to get him and we can tell him the news together?"
"I think I would like that, Blaine. After all, he's part of your
family and if he can see that you and I are going to keep everything just
between us, maybe Rex won't say anything if he has YOU to answer to."
"Why don't you go to the bathroom, third door on the left, wash
your face, compose yourself, and bring him back to my office?"
"I will..."
Blaine put out his arms to help Kent out of the chair and as Kent
stood up, their faces were only inches apart. Both felt 'that look' as they
gazed deeply into the other's eyes. Both were frozen--neither of them
moved. Each could feel the other's hot breath as they exhaled, their
breaths brushing the other's lips. No one could say who kissed whom because
their lips met at the same time.
The kiss wasn't passionate, no arms enveloped the other's body, no
tongues intruded to search the mystery of the other's mouth. It was just a
mere touching of the lips. Both had tried to back away, but neither
could. That would mean one or the other would have to say something
embarrassing to make matters worse. Kent opened his eyes to see that
Blaine's eyes were still closed. This was his chance to break away. Kent
took one step backward, turned and went out the door to go the
bathroom. Once Kent had left, Blaine opened HIS eyes and wanted the floor
beneath him to open, to swallow him and let him disappear.
Blaine had never kissed any man...NEVER, so why now? God! How
unprofessional! What was he thinking? This guy...this kid...his
brother-in-law's best friend...and they...had just kissed for no apparent
reason. They weren't gay! And Kent was a patient! Kent had just received
the worst news of his young life, SO why did they kiss? There was nothing
Blaine could say or do...or even THINK...to make that moment disappear!
CHRIST! And now, Rex was coming inside to face him AND Kent!
Since all tradition and ceremony had gone awry, Blaine did one more
thing he had never done before. He went to his medicine cabinet filled with
pharmaceutical samples and opened a packet containing Xanax and took one
before Kent and Rex returned. Having never taken alprazolam before, Blaine
was unaware of its bitterness. He hurried to the water dispenser and drank
three full cones of water to wash away the aftertaste! A bitter pill to
precede a bitter deed!
<><><><><><><><><><>
It was only a couple of minutes later that Kent returned to
Blaine's office with Rex. Rex believed that Kent had tried to trick him
into seeing his brother-in-law for the proposed prostate stimulation. So
Rex was rather reluctant about leaving his car to see Blaine.
When the two friends entered Blaine's private office, Blaine was at
his desk, still reading the reports concerning Kent's condition. Before
Blaine could say a word, Rex spoke up, "Now look, you two, I don't know
what you're planning to do to me, but it ain't gonna happen! Not today, not
tomorrow, or any day in the future!"
"Please sit down, Rex," Blaine said calmly. "You too, Kent."
Seldom had Rex ever seen his brother-in-law looking so serious as
the two of them had always had a joking good relationship, but Rex sensed
something which created a hint of trepidation in the pit of his
stomach. Glancing strongly at the doctor, "What's wrong, Blaine?" Rex
asked.
Blaine looked toward Kent, who said, "I...I didn't tell him
anything, Blaine..."
"What is it you two are talking about? I'm beginning to think you
didn't call me in here to make me the brunt of a joke."
"Before we go any further, Rex, I'm going to ask something out of
the ordinary from you."
"I trust you. Go ahead."
"Rex, I want you to look Kent straight in the eyes and tell
him...from your heart... exactly how much he means to you?"
"Ah, shit!" Rex exclaimed. "This is about that kiss!"
Suddenly, Rex's remark made all three of them blush. Blaine felt
that Kent must have told Rex about the kiss a few minutes ago between him
and Kent. Rex was referring to the kiss he gave Kent on Friday night,
sitting on Kent's bed. Kent didn't know what kiss Rex was talking
about. Surely Rex hadn't seen him kissing Blaine.
"What kiss?" Kent asked, defiantly.
"Ah, fuck, Kent! I guess you were too high on your medication to
remember."
"I guess I was...but WHAT kiss?" Kent asked again.
"Forget it, Kent. If you don't remember, then...then there WAS no
kiss!"
Kent looked at Blaine, who returned his puzzled look.
"I think you'd better explain, Rex," Kent said.
"I'll tell you about it when we get home."
"All right, but I won't let you rest until I find out."
"Guys, back to the matter at hand," Blaine interjected. "I believe
I just asked you to tell Kent how you feel about him..."
"What do you want me to say? He's my best friend and has been for
years. I...I look at him as if he were my real brother...almost the same
way that I think of my real sister, Maggie."
"Do you love him like a brother?" Blaine asked.
"Sure! I probably love him MORE than a brother."
"Do you love him enough to keep a secret between the two of you for
the rest of your lives?"
"Yeah, I guess I do...but, Blaine, what the fuck is this all about?
You're scaring the hell out of me!"
"I'm scared, too, Rex," Kent added.
"Oh, my God, NO! Blaine didn't give you bad news, did he?"
"I'm afraid so, Rex, but...there is hope..." Kent replied.
"Oh, shit! You have cancer?"
"Yep!" Kent replied while tears formed in his lower eyelids.
"Oh, man!" Rex said, then looked at Blaine. "How bad is it,
Blaine?"
"Pretty bad but not terminal."
"Thank God for that...but---how bad is 'pretty bad'?"
"Kent's condition is going to require surgery with many months of
rehabilitation to follow."
"But he IS gonna get well, isn't he?" Rex asked Blaine, pointedly.
"Without some unforeseen tumor in the future, Kent should make a
complete recovery."
"Cancer is nothing to hide any more. Why do you want me to keep it
a secret?" Rex asked.
"Because I don't want ANYONE to know...not our friends, my parents,
the team or the coaches. I...I'm going to have to have one or both of my
testicles removed and I WON'T be the punchline of any jokes! You know how
cruel the guys on the team can be when they start kiddin' someone about
something personal."
"Rex, Kent is going to need someone to help him through this. I
know you took care of Kent this past weekend...but, if you're willing to
take on the responsibility, I'd like you to be there for Kent. He's going
to need a lot of kid-glove psychology from someone who really cares about
him. I hope you care enough for Kent to be that person!" Blaine explained.
"Damn, Kent, you KNOW I'll be there for you. I'll do everything you
want me to! Hell, I won't like it, but I'll even wipe your butt if you need
it."
"I don't think it'll call for anything THAT extreme, Rex..." Kent
said.
"STILL, if you DO..."
"I'll remember that, buddy."
"I...I'm just wondering how long you can keep it a secret in the
dorm with all the guys storming in and out of our room all the time?" Rex
added.
"That will be a problem, but we'll have to take it day by day,
minute by minute, but we'll do the best we can."
"Like hell we will!" Rex said, excitedly.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I have one of the biggest houses in Epperson...just sitting
there vacant! I'll open the house and the two of us can move in. The reason
I don't live there is just because I didn't want to stay there all
alone. When classes start next month...I can drive to class every
morning. I don't know how soon you'll be ready to attend classes after your
surgery, but we'll let time be the judge."
"That's a splendid idea, Rex," Blaine said. "I can drop by your
house on my way home from work to check on you, Kent!"
"Hell, I've got barbells and all kinds of exercise equipment in my
home gym. If there's some kind of special apparatus you need, we'll just
add it to the rest. What are you going to say to the coach?"
"Blaine suggested that I tell my parents and anyone who needs an
explanation that I got a rupture playing football and that I'm being
operated on to fix it!"
"Great idea. I think everyone will buy it!" Rex said, with
enthusiasm. "When's your surgery, big guy?"
"Blaine and I haven't discussed it," Kent replied. "By the way, I
don't know if you're a surgeon, Blaine. Will you do my surgery...and do you
think my insurance will pay you your fee?"
"I'm sure it will and, yes, I'll do your surgery. I'll even ask my
partner, Dr. Whitcomb, to assist me."
"Can I afford him, too?"
"Well, Kent, since you and Rex are almost-brothers, that makes you
almost-kin to me and Maggie. We DO give family discounts."
"Oh, you couldn't..."
"Like hell he couldn't! He can and he will, so shut the fuck up!"
Rex replied to his buddy.
"God...what'll I feel like, having one, one and a half, or both of
my balls removed!"
"Shit! No wonder you wanted to keep it a secret!" Rex sympathized
"Hey! Were you awake Friday night when I offered to give you one of my
balls if you needed a transplant?"
"No, I don't remember..."
Turning to Blaine, he demanded, "Is that possible, Blaine?"
"I suppose it's possible, but since the testicles aren't visible, a
prosthesis works just as well."
"What? You take out his balls and replace 'em with marbles?"
Blaine laughed. "No, Rex, medical science has advanced a little
beyond using marbles. However, IF a patient WANTS marbles, I suppose we
could comply with his wish..."
"Well, if you want to replace them with the same sized objects, you
probably need to go to an auto parts store and buy Kent a couple of tiny
ball-bearings!"
"You motherfucker! My balls are NOT that small."
"Oh, I forgot! One of them is now about the size of a
cannonball. The other? I'd say about the size of a filbert!"
"Has Rex been playing with your balls, Kent?"
"I think he does it every night after I go asleep. I think he beats
himself off at the same time."
"You wish!" Rex snarled.
"So, Blaine, let's get serious for a moment. How soon would you
like to operate on me?"
"The sooner the better."
"Won't he need testosterone or steroids to keep his voice from
raising two octaves or developing breasts?"
"Nothing will change...his voice, his breasts, his hair, NOTHING!"
"But I thought that's what happens when a transgender has his
testicles removed."
"A transgender has physical changes due to the female hormones he's
injected with PLUS a regimen of pills."
"But what about castrati...those guys who cut their balls off to
sing soprano?"
"Rex, sometimes I think you're a card-carrying idiot! If you
weren't Maggie's brother, I'd recommend that you be admitted for
psychological examination."
"Shit! I'm no doctor. How am I supposed to know about these things?
How many guys have a roommate who's gonna lose his balls?"
"Kent, God forbid, but if you should ever die before Rex, would you
leave him your brain to be transplanted afterward?"
"Rex is too far gone, Blaine! It would take TWO brains to
straighten out his mind."
"Perhaps, one human brain and one from an elephant!" Blaine added.
"Oh, we got an elephant in our living room at the dorm and it shits
big logs on the sofa!" Rex joked.
"Would you two excuse me for a second?" Kent asked. "I need to go
to the john to take a piss."
"Sure, go ahead, Kent." Blaine said. "Do you need one of us to
help?"
"No, I haven't used the catheter since Saturday. I'm a free pee-er
now!"
Kent got up from he chair and left the office, leaving Blaine alone with
Rex.
"How bad is it, Blaine?"
"The scans show it to be localized in the scrotum. There's no sign
of metastasis in any other organ."
"That's good news, isn't it?"
"For now, yes. We'll just have to keep a close eye on him for a few
years."
"I'll stay with him no matter how long it takes."
"While he's in the bathroom, can I ask you something...just between
you and me?"
"Sure!"
"A few minutes ago, you mentioned a kiss. What was that all about?"
"Oh, I didn't want to embarrass Kent in front of you. Friday night
when he was ready to go to bed, he took some of the pills you prescribed
for him...an antibiotic, a sleeping pill, and a tranquilizer, all at the
same time...and he got pretty high when all three kicked in."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, he got all weepy and maudlin...worried about his testicle
and what if it WAS cancer...and I went over to his bed to sit by him and
suddenly, he just sorta fell into my arms while he cried. He bawled and
talked for five or six minutes, saying all kinds of bullshit and then,
out-of-the-blue, he looked up at me and asked me to kiss him."
"Did you?"
"Yeah, I gave him a peck on the lips...nothing serious...just
enough to appease him."
"Did anything else happen after that?"
"Uh...well, he asked me to get in bed with him and hold him until
he fell asleep."
"And...?"
"I...uh...I lay down beside him for two or three minutes, I mean,
hell, he was so groggy from the pills, he fell asleep almost
instantly. Then I got up, went back to the couch and watched a movie on
TV."
"Did it bother you to kiss him?"
"No...not really, now that I think about it"
"Was that the first time you ever kissed a guy?"
"When I went back to the couch, I tried to remember if that was my
first...and I...I couldn't remember. Why the hell did you ask about the
kiss?"
"Because, two minutes before he came outside to get you to come in
here, he kissed me...or I kissed him. I don't know who kissed whom...our
lips just seemed to touch!"
"Jesus Christ, Blaine! You're married to the sexiest woman in the
world and now you find yourself kissing young men in your office? Who
would've thought it?"
"Not I, Rex! God damn! I'm not gay and never will be! I can't
explain WHY we kissed."
"No more than I can explain why I agreed to kiss him. He's got some
kind of alluring quality that creates magic on us straight guys. You...you
don't think Kent's gay, do you?"
"I'd bet my life that he isn't, but he's going to need a lot of
support from you to convince him that he hasn't lost his manhood after the
surgery. Buy lots of straight sex porn DVD's, girlie magazines on all your
table tops. We need to keep him from withdrawing into deep depression. It's
strange, but a man who has an arm or leg amputated can deal with his loss
better than a guy who loses one or both testicles. A lost arm or leg can
even make a guy feel more manly...like a scar from a war or some manly
accident...but lose one's balls and he feels LESS than a man!"
"I can see that! I think that's how I would feel under the
circumstance, Blaine."
Just then, the door opened and Kent reentered. "Well, have you got
my rehabilitation all plotted out?"
"No, Blaine and I were talking about my favorite subject, 'opera'!"
"You bullshitter!"
"We were! I was asking Blaine about how many operas Beethoven
wrote!"
"And what did Blaine tell you?"
"He said that Beethoven wrote nine!"
"I know you're lying. Beethoven wrote nine symphonies but he only
wrote ONE opera and I won't believe that Blaine told you nine."
"IF you're so knowledgeable, limp prick, what's the name of the one
Beethoven wrote?"
"Beethoven wrote one opera in 1805, entitled, 'Fidelio', but it
wasn't performed until 1806."
"Good God, Kent!" Blaine exclaimed. "I knew that he only wrote one,
but I had no idea when he wrote it! I'm impressed! You really DO like
opera!"
"Oh, fuck! If you two are gonna talk about opera, I'm gonna leave!"
Rex said, disgusted.
"When do you want to see me again, Blaine?"
"Tomorrow and then we'll discuss dates for your procedure. Please
continue taking your antibiotic and the other meds if you need them."
"So can I go?"
"Sure...just remember, DON'T WORRY! The three of us will get
through this."
Rex looked at Kent. "You wanna go pack up and move your stuff out
of the dorm and into my house?"
"Now?"
"Might as well start avoiding the crowd, ASAP!"
"I don't have to remind either of you that Kent is NOT to lift
anything heavy!"
"Wait!" Rex said. "IF I have to do all the lifting, maybe we
SHOULDN'T move today. Why don't you leave all your heavy stuff and I'll buy
everything new for you!"
"You lazy fuck! I'll get Jay and Randy to help me move!"
"All right! I'LL do all the moving. I don't want to see either of
those guys. If they see we're moving in together at my house, Jay will get
suspicious as he did when he saw us going into the shower together. Should
we hang signs around our necks, saying, 'WE'RE NOT LOVERS...JUST GOOD
FRIENDS!'?"
"I don't care what anyone thinks! I'm not going to see any of them
for several months. Now if YOU need a sign for yourself, go ahead and make
one! I'll even autograph it for you!"
As they started to leave, Blaine walked them to the door and
grabbed them in a three-way hug. They held it for several seconds until
Blaine opened the door for Kent and Rex to go to the car and then to move
from the dorm to the Morris mansion on the hill.
<><><><><><><><><><><>
Blaine had spent more time than he should have with Kent and Rex,
putting him behind on his other scheduled patients. None of those waiting
in the anteroom complained as they were used to long waits when seeing any
doctor. Blaine saw the folder on the box outside the next examining
room. He took a quick check to see the name and the patient's reason for
his visit. The next patient was a twenty-five year old young man, Tom
Chastain, that had stopped by several weeks ago to be tested for
HIV. Phoebe had called Tom to tell him that his test results were back from
the lab and made an appointment for him to see Blaine.
On his first visit to see Blaine, Blaine had paid little or no
attention to Tom's looks. But having felt an attraction to Kent, Blaine
consciously took a second look at Tom. Tom was indeed a handsome guy. The
only procedure done to Tom on his first visit was drawing three ampoules of
blood to be sent to the laboratories. But suddenly, this time when Blaine
saw Tom, Blaine wanted to give him a more stringent physical
examination. Blaine asked Tom if he would strip his clothes and put on a
hospital gown.
Tom showed no hesitation in removing his clothes and donning the
blue printed gown, opened in the back. All the while he was undressing,
Blaine sat at a small desk in the examining room, reading the report on
Tom's blood work. Occasionally, Blaine would look back at Tom. It was if
Blaine was eager to see Tom's genitalia...something else, Blaine couldn't
explain. Why was he so attracted to young men's bodies all of a sudden? He
had examined men AND women, fully nude for years without the least
curiosity of the naked human body. What had happened to Blaine? Had
he----had he 'changed'?
"All ready," Tom said when he had put on the gown.
"Thank you, Tom. I realized I hadn't given you a thorough
examination when you were here before. When's the last time you had a
complete physical?"
"Oh, must be a couple of years ago."
"Were you seen by another doctor here in Epperson?"
"Oh, no! I've only lived here about six months. Before that I lived
in Boston with my folks."
"Are you an E.U. student?"
"Not hardly. I graduated from Boston College four years ago."
"You work here in Epperson?"
"Yes, but I can do my work most anywhere. I'm a writer. I do
feature stories for various publications on a number of subjects."
"Are you married? Children?"
"Not in the sense you're referring to, I'm sure."
"Your answer intrigues me, Tom, would you mind explaining further?"
"No doubt you've guessed that I'm gay..."
"As a matter of fact, that thought hadn't occurred to me," Blaine
replied with total honesty.
"Why? Because I don't lisp or my wrists aren't limp?"
"No, I'm sorry if I offended you. I didn't mean to imply that at
all."
"It's OK. I suppose you really want to know WHY I'm in Epperson and
the real reason is that my boyfriend attends Epperson U. I moved here to be
with him."
"Oh, that's great! I'm afraid I'm a bit naive talking to openly gay
patients. I don't have many gay patients and those that are, are what you'd
call..'in the closet'!"
"I've heard stories of what can happen to gay men in small Virginia
towns."
"They're mostly in the hills, I think! Now if you'd lower the top
of the gown, I'd like to listen to your heart and chest."
Tom complied and lowered the garment letting the bulk lie in his
lap. Blaine used his stethoscope to listen to both lungs, front and back,
having Tom cough heavily intermittently. Next, Blaine paid close attention
to Tom's heartbeat, placing the scope on all four heart valves...finding
everything normal.
"Do you hear any abnormalities?"
"No, you show no signs of arrhythmia. Your lungs are quite clear. I
take it that you don't smoke?"
"I do, on occasion, but not the kind of cigarettes sold at
Wal-Mart."
"Pot?"
"From time to time...but I'm not addicted."
"Would you mind lying flat on your back while I examine your lower
torso."
"I've never objected when ANYONE examines my lower torso....doctor
OR layman!"
With two hands, Blaine tapped on Tom's abdominal region...his
stomach, large and small intestines...asking Tom if he felt any
discomfort. Tom replied in the negative. Blaine moved down to Tom's pelvic
area and was a bit astonished to see that Tom's pubic hair was trimmed and
shaved into a 'V'.
"I presume your pubic hair doesn't grow in the pattern naturally?"
"No, I'm surprised that you even noticed. Even straight guys coif
their pubes. I think it became fashionable when Metrosexuality became
popular. I'm sure you know that women have shaved their vaginas for
decades, but now, most women prefer their men to be trimmed or shaved
likewise."
"I must try that sometime to see if MY wife would like it!" Blaine
joked.
"She'll love it!"
"Probably!"
Blaine raised Tom's scrotum and pushed one finger firmly into the
pubic area under the right testicle and asked Tom to cough. Tom followed
Blaine's instruction and Blaine moved his hand and probing finger to Tom's
other testicle with the same procedure.
"No hernia?"
"Not that I felt."
"Perhaps I'm being a bit too candid, but my
boyfriend-slash-lover-slash-husband whose name is Lance, always tells me
that I fuck him too hard and, one day, I'll rupture myself!"
Tom's remark caused Blaine to blush. "I hope you practice safe
sex."
"Always. I guess you're wondering why I had an HIV test done?"
"I suppose...since you have a lover or husband and you said that
you used condoms."
"Yes, but what I didn't tell you is that Lance and I have an open
relationship. We let the other have sex with other partners from time to
time."
"And you retain your relationship? I mean, surely, there must be
romance and love involved between you and Lance."
"We love each other deeply. It's just that we don't want our sex to
become an habitual routine. An occasional one-night stand makes Lance and
me each appreciate the other more the following night."
"And I presume you have safe sex with these one-night stands?"
"It's a must...usually, but I DID go astray and have unsafe sex in a public
restroom three or four months ago. That's why I came to you to be tested."
"You're positive that Lance has safe sex with his alternative
partners?"
"He says he does. I love him and I trust him."
For some unknown reason to Blaine, Blaine's hands trembled slightly
when he took Tom's penis in his hands to examine the urethra opening, the
glans, and the shaft. Tom showed no embarrassment at all when he began to
spring an erection in Blaine's hands.
"This...uh...this excites you?"
"When ANY man touches my dick, I get excited. Don't you?"
"Being totally candid with you, the only person besides myself who
EVER touches my penis is my wife."
"You don't cheat on her...just a tiny bit?"
"I never have and have no plans to do so in the future."
"WOW. She must be the kind of lady who knows how to please her
man...if you'll pardon my saying so..."
"She's MORE than enough woman for me."
"Good for you. Are you through playing with my dick or would you
like to continue?"
"Tom, I'm a doctor. I don't have any form of sex with my patients!"
"Too bad. With your profession, you could have sex all day...if you
had a mind to..."
"Well, I don't want to lose my license over lubricious desires."
"You don't think you'd get turned on if you masturbated me a
little?"
"I'm sure I wouldn't. Now if you'll roll over, I'll check your
prostate gland."
"Ah, I see you're an ass man. Go ahead, ram your finger up my
butt. Ram two, three, fingers...hell, even your whole hand---the more you
probe, the more I like it!"
Blaine was almost ready to end this examination. He didn't like
Tom's attitude. It's as if Tom were testing Blaine for repressed latent
homosexuality...as if Tom were the doctor and he, Blaine, was the
patient. Blaine knew that he would die a thousand deaths if Tom only knew
that Blaine's penis was as hard a piece of steel. He was extremely glad he
had worn briefs to work and not his usual boxers.
Blaine donned a pair of latex sterile gloves and inserted his
forefinger up Tom's rectum. Tom responded by sighing, "AHHHH...".
Blaine probed deeper and became concerned that Tom's prostate was
enlarged...swollen so much, Blaine could go no further.
"Does this hurt?"
"What do you think? Two or three more jabs from your finger and
I'll spurt cum all over your table, here."
"Tom, all kidding aside, your prostate gland is quite
enlarged. Would you mind answering when was the last time you had anal
intercourse?"
"Rarely. I'm a top...do you need me to explain that?"
"No, tops and bottoms are predominant with heterosexuals also."
"Do you think it's something serious?"
"It COULD be."
"Wait! Hold on, Doc! You're beginning to scare me!"
"I'm going to write you a referral and send you to the Dial
Laboratories next door to have a scan done."
"You're not kidding, are you?"
"No, I'm not. Then I want you to make an appointment for Thursday
or Friday to see me when I KNOW more."
"You haven't even told me the result of my HIV test and you're
already ordering MORE tests?"
"I'm sorry. I should have told you when I first came in to see you
that your HIV test was negative. NO HIV virus, but more importantly, you
don't have AIDS."
"That's SOME good news. Thank God for small favors."
"You can get dressed now and I'll see you when you come back toward
the end of the week."
"Are there any pills you can give me for an enlarged prostate."
"Of course, I'll write you prescriptions for ProScar and
Flomax. Take them as directed. If it's just a minor irritation which caused
the enlargement, these should help the swelling to go down...and by the
way...NO anal intercourse."
"Looks like Lance is going to get a plethora of blow jobs from now
until then."
"That will satisfy you?"
"ALL male sex satisfies me. Heck, I could give YOU a blow job right
now and I'D be satisfied!"
"I'll just take your word for it, but thanks anyway!"
"Don't say I didn't offer!"
Blaine knew that Tom could see that he was flustered with this
conversational subject and so Blaine hurried his exit. "Once you're
dressed, please stop by my office manager's desk to make your appointment
and get your referral and prescriptions."
"Thanks, Doctor Rogers."
"You're quite welcome," Blaine said as he left the examining room
to go into the hall. He took a moment to compose himself before entering
Exam Room #2. He read the folder and it belonged to Mrs. Fielding,
seventy-six years old and a long time patient. Blaine was treating her for
chronic hemorrhoids. 'Thank God for a simple case of piles!' Blaine
thought.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Fielding," Blaine said, cheerfully as he
entered the room.
"God damn! It's about time you saw me! My do-jiggers are hanging
out of my ass about a foot!"
Blaine smiled and closed the door behind them.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><>
(To be continued in "But Who Knows Where Or When?"---chapter five...next
week!)