Date: Fri, 25 Jun 2004 19:37:45 EDT
From: RitchChristopher@cs.com
Subject: lush-life-7

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.

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                                   LUSH LIFE

                                       by

                                Ritch Christopher


                                  Chapter Seven


                                "THERE'S NO YOU"


                       * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


                            I feel the autumn breeze,
                            It steals 'cross my pillow
                            As soft as a will-o'-the-wisp,
                            And in its song, there is sadness
                            Because there's no you.
                            The lonely autumn trees,
                            How softly they're sighing,
                            For summer is dying,
                            They know that in my heart
                            There's no gladness
                            Because there's no you,
                            The park that we walked in,
                            The garden we talked in,
                            How lonesome they seem in the fall,
                            The stormy clouds hover,
                            And falling leaves cover
                            Our favorite nook in the wall,
                            In spring, we'll meet again,
                            We'll kiss and recapture
                            The summertime rapture we knew,
                            And from that day,
                            Never more will I say there's no you.

                            "There's No You"
                            Lyrics by Tom Adair
                            Music by Hal Hopper
                            copyright 1944



<><><><><><><><>

	After five days and nights at Job's Retreat, Dave knew every gospel
hymn in the world by heart. He was stronger, able to walk, but he kept that
secret from Mildred, Wilbur, and Daryl for he knew that the three of them
would have him attending nightly services at the mission or passing the
offering plate. Late in the evening when he was sure that everyone had
visited him for the last time of that day, he managed to exercise as well
as he could without inviting pain or injury to his post-op condition.

	However, during the morning and throughout the day, in spite of the
guilty feeling it brought, he assumed the role of an invalid, making Daryl
or Wilbur bring his meals to him. Mildred had changed his bandages daily
and removed the sutures. She claimed his wounds were healing nicely on
their own, BUT she still wouldn't rule out that her praying to the Almighty
had a positive effect on his getting well.

	After the fourth day, Dave began making plans for his escape. One
early evening when everyone was gone for street duty, Dave rummaged through
the donated clothing and handpicked the nicest ware that would fit him,
including a pair of leather shoes. He also had watched Mildred stash the
nightly cash in a small strong box, which she kept in the bottom drawer of
her desk. Dave calculated there must be between three and five hundred
dollars accumulated from the weekly offering haul. That would be enough
cash to get him a bus ticket to somewhere out of New York until he could
find some way to get some money out of his bank account.

	Also, on that day, Mildred had been forgetful and left her cell
phone on her desk in the room where Dave slept. He made almost half a dozen
calls to Cole Institute in Briarwood, trying to reach Clay or Clay's
superior, Dr. Ed Middleton. It was after 5:00 PM when he finally reached
Dr. Ed, only to learn that Clay was NOT at Cole, but was in New York
(probably at Dave's apartment!). He left one message for Ed to relate to
Clay...he never wanted to see him again. Having made the call to end his
and Clay's relationship, Dave carefully returned the phone to Mildred's
desk, with the realization of what he had been forced to give up in losing
Clay.

	One of the clothing donors had contributed a large amount of shirts
and pants in a red plaid vinyl suitcase. Dave took the case and packed the
best looking of his newly acquired wardrobe along with a couple of
disposable Gillette razors, a toothbrush, and toothpaste.

	The following night was Friday. Dave learned that after the evening
'hallelujah' service, everyone left the mission and paraded through the
East Village across Broadway and held a midnight prayer meeting in
Washington Square. This would become Dave's 'zero hour' and his chance to
disappear into the New York night WITH a pocket full of God's money...then
onward to Jersey, Canada, or some other destination far from the auspices
of the Village police precinct. He would become a fugitive, but it was
either that or face a year or two in a New York lock-up and be subjected to
another rape or even worse.

	During the past week, late at night when Dave was alone, he almost
wished the thugs who sexually assaulted him HAD killed him. He was
humiliated, but even worse, he felt as if his manhood had been taken from
him. He never wanted to see the Rustic Inn...Rick, Leo, Ray, Jay, or Tony
ever again, but more so, he never wanted them to look at him again if they
knew what had happened at the precinct. It took every ounce of emotional
strength and determination Dave could muster to make the phone call to
Dr. Ed. He loved Clay more than anything in his life, but he could never
face him again. He swore if he should meet Clay coming down to street, Dave
would jump in front of the next oncoming vehicle and kill himself rather
than have Clay's eyes staring at him.  He would rather be dead.

	No matter how loving and forgiving Clay might be, no matter how
Clay could ignore the physicality of his assault from a medical viewpoint,
Dave knew his rape would always be between them, always blocking any future
in their relationship. Dave would never forget Clay and the short-lived
happiness they had known, but that was the end of it. Dave would NEVER love
anyone again and as soon as Clay could accept the fact that Dave was out of
his life, Clay could go on with HIS life and find someone new. That was
best for both of them, Dave thought.

	So, Friday night came, and everything went on schedule as Dave
planned. As soon as Mildred and the 'missionaries' left, he took the cash
from Mildred's desk; put on the best pair of pants, shirt, socks, and shoes
he had found; grabbed the suitcase and flagged the first cab in sight.

	"Where to, Mister?" the taxi driver asked.

	"Uh...the nearest Greyhound bus station," Dave replied.

	There was one midtown on around 34th. He would buy a ticket on the
next bus leaving town, no matter where or in which direction. He hopped out
of the taxi, only paying the driver the amount shown on the meter without a
tip. The money Dave had stolen was now vital for his getaway and
survival. He had to make every dollar count to its fullest advantage.

	Things had gone so bad for Dave for the past week, he could hardly
believe his eyes when he saw a sign behind the Greyhound ticket seller's
window..."End of summer---cross country special rates! We Take YOU where
you want to go...ANYWHERE for Fifty Dollars!" Jesus Christ! How could he
get so lucky by stealing 'God's money'?

	"What time does your next bus leave?" Dave asked the seller.

	"Going where?"

	"The next bus with that special rate you're advertising."

	"We have a bus leaving in ten minutes for points west."

	"How far west?"

	"Well, if you don't mind the layovers and changing buses around a
half dozen times, you can go as far as the sun goes...California!"

	"Give me one ticket, one-way!"

	"San Francisco far enough?"

	"San Francisco is just where I had in mind. My mother lives there!"
Dave lied, plopping down two tens, four fives, and ten one dollar bills on
the counter."

	"That's fifty dollars PLUS tax, sir."

	"Whatever!" Dave snarled, counting out ten more one-dollar bills.

	"Let's see now, you'll have to change buses in D.C., again in
Cleveland, Chicago, St. Louis..."

	"It doesn't matter! I'll change whenever I HAVE to. I'll play it by
ear."

	The ticket agent took out the tax from Dave's stack of ones and
handed him the change. The ticket, with the transfers, was almost a yard
long. The agent folded the stream of blue paper and stuffed it into an
envelope and handed it to Dave.

	"That bus is boarding now on Gate 'H'. You'd better hurry to get
you the best seat. If you're not used to riding buses, I'd suggest you take
a seat toward the back of the bus, nearest the restroom."

	"Thanks!"

	Dave couldn't run or even walk fast due to his soreness, but he
made his way out the door down to the correct gate. He didn't bother to
check his suitcase. He took it on board and put it over his seat, which was
way in the front of the bus. The seats nearest the bathroom were already
occupied. It had been years since Dave had taken a bus, not even a local
Manhattan transport, and it only took one whiff of the carbon-monoxide
exhaust fumes to awaken his sense memory. At first he thought he would get
sick to his stomach, but soon the driver closed the door and the bus air
conditioner made the air tolerable. Soon the bus pulled out on 34th and
headed west and then north to exit from Manhattan through the Lincoln
Tunnel.

	As soon as Dave knew he was in New Jersey, he felt his first sense
of relief in almost a week. He had escaped New York, but every mile
westward was carrying him further from Clay, the one he loved.

<><><><><><><><><>

	Clay had had the entire weekend to ponder if he should scout the
remaining nine places of potential employment on his list or if he should
just go ahead and accept the position at St. Bart's? Twice he picked up his
phone to call Tom and ask his advice and twice he had placed the phone back
into its cradle because he knew that Tom would insist that Clay hold out
for the biggest paying job, not necessarily the one where Clay would be the
happiest. Still, Clay wanted to talk it over with someone.

	Sunday night at the Inn, the band only played from 7:00 to
10:00PM. Clay arrived early before the quartet began and caught Benny's
attention before he headed to the back room to unpack his trumpet.

	"Hey, Benny", Clay called from his usual table.

	"What's up, Doc?" Benny echoed his familiar greeting.

	"You get off at ten, right?"

	"Yep."

	"Do you have plans to go out to eat afterwards?"

	"Nothing I can't reschedule."

	"I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me?"

	"Tonight? Sure?"

	"Now, I'm only talking 'dinner' and nothing else. Is that
understood?"

	"You mean you don't feel like fighting off any advances I might
make on you?"

	"Exactly."

	"I suppose I could behave myself on our first date."

	"It's NOT a date, Benny, it's just dinner because I need to talk
with you."

	"Wanna give me a preview...talk about what?"

	"I...I have a decision to make the first thing in the morning and
you're the only person I know who will listen without 'telling' me what I
SHOULD do."

	"Okeydoke! Where do you wanna go?"

	"I...I had planned on cooking spaghetti, meatballs, and a salad for
myself at home, but that's a dish you can always stretch."

	"I could go for some meatballs. I'm a real ball gobbler, or so I've
been told."

	"I'm talking about ITALIAN meatballs, not IRISH, you idiot!"

	"Irish? What do you mean?"

	"Private joke...skip it!"

	"Could we get some Chianti to go with it?"

	"I...I already have a bottle."

	"Then, it's a date...a DINNER date."

	"Nothing more, right?"

	"Nothing more..." Benny complied. "Hey, I gotta run. See ya at my
first break!"

	"I'll be sitting here until you get off."

	"Any requests?"

	"Just, please, don't play THAT song..."

	"Huh? Oh, you mean, 'The Boy Next...'?"

	"Yes, that one."

	"Okay, but the third song...the one I'll sing, that'll be just for
you."

	"Thanks, I can't wait."

	Benny ran to the back room, opened his case, and took out his
trumpet. Rick, Leo, and Ray were already in place when Benny returned to
the bandstand. He stopped to see what Rick had chosen to open with.Next,
Rick counted out four beats and played a four bar intro. Next, Benny put
the trumpet to his lips and played, 'You came to me, from out of
nowhere...". The second number, Rick played the first chorus of Strayhorn's
'I Got It Bad And That Ain't Good', all the way through, followed by
Benny's solo on the second chorus.

	The medium size Sunday night crowd was very responsive and
applauded enthusiastically while Benny leaned over to tell Rick the title
of the third tune. Then Benny took the mike and in his best Chet Baker
voice, began to sing,

                      "This is the end of a beautiful friendship.
		           It ended a moment ago.
	                 This is the end of a beautiful friendship.
	                 I know 'cause your eyes told me so."

	Clay seemed puzzled. He wasn't familiar with this old Ella
Fitzgerald song. Benny DID say the third tune, didn't he? 'The END of a
beautiful friendship? What was he trying to say? Then, Benny continued with
the lyrics of the last sixteen bars.

	                  "We were always like sister and brother
                         Until tonight when we looked at each other.
                         That was the end of a beautiful friendship
                         And just the beginning of love."

	Clay thought he'd made a huge mistake when he heard the last line
of song. 'Beginning of love'? Is this what Benny really wanted to say to
Clay? Suddenly Clay wished he'd never invited Benny home for dinner. Their
feelings toward one another were not on the same page. Clay missed Dave and
he only wanted to be friends with Benny, nothing more. Clay's first impulse
was to get up and leave but he knew if it did so, he'd never be able to
face Benny again, nor could he ever return to the Inn, which was his only
nightly refuge.

	Clay set himself on guard. He would pay close attention to the
tunes in the set to see if Benny was actually trying to hit on him through
songs and lyrics. Benny sang the entire ballad looking directly at
Clay. Clay did his best to not lock his eyes in a fixed gaze at Benny, so
he scanned his attention from Rick to Leo to Ray and back again.

	The next tune was bright, but again, it had a subliminal message,
'I'm Beginning To See The Light'.  Clay felt more at ease during the next
medley consisting of girls' names, 'Laura', 'Stella By Starlight', 'Peg O'
My Heart', 'Delores`, and 'Linda'. The remainder of the song set was on
safe ground for Clay, as he felt no pressure from musical messages.

	When ten o'clock rolled around, Clay made his way over to see Rick,
Leo, and Ray to touch base and tell them how much he had enjoyed their
music...also, to see, if by chance, any of the three had news of Dave. They
hadn't. Then, with trumpet case in hand, Benny bounced from the back room
and interrupted Clay's conversation by asking, rather loudly.

	"Hey, Doc! You ready to go? I'm starved."

	The other band members looked at Benny then back at Clay as if to
wonder what was going on. They exchanged glances of disbelief among
themselves as Benny and Clay left the Inn together.

	The night air was almost cold as Clay and Benny walked to Dave's
apartment.

	"You...you sounded great, as usual," Clay said as they walked.

	"You seem to inspire me," Benny replied. "I don't know what it is
but looking at you brings out the best in me when I'm playing."

	"That's funny," Clay said, "that's what Dave used to say."

	"Still no word from him?"

	"Nothing."

	"He's a goddamned fool!"

	"Why do you say that?"

	"He's got this great looking hunk, who happens to be a doctor,
waiting with baited breath for his return. Damn! I'd come running back to
you in a minute...come rain or come...whatever!"

	"I'm sure wherever he is, he has his reasons," Clay said, "but I
KNOW he'll come back."

	The rest of the way to the apartment, Clay kept the conversation
light, mostly about music. He did NOT want to ask Benny the reason for the
song dedication or what he meant by it.  Clay thought that would be an open
invitation for Benny to tell him how much he cared about him... and THAT,
Clay didn't want to know.

	When they arrived at Dave's digs, Clay took Benny's coat and hung
it in the closet. He asked Benny if he'd light a fire in the fireplace and
showed him Dave's CD collection and asked for him to choose the music while
he prepared dinner.

	Benny was like a kid in Macy's Christmas toy department when he saw
Dave's CD library. There were literally hundreds of albums, some of them
were very rare and out of print. Clay was in the kitchen wondering what
type of music or which artists Benny would choose. He was a bit amazed when
he heard Frank Sinatra's 'Point Of No Return' begin to play. This was one
of Sinatra's best Capitol recordings, beginning with, 'When The World Was
Young', 'I'll Remember April', and 'September Song'.

	"Anything I can do to help?" Benny asked, appearing at the kitchen
door. "I can make a mean tossed salad."

	"There's a bowl, a butcher knife, and the salad stuff is in the
refrigerator."

	"A butcher knife and not a scalpel?"

	"No, I keep my scalpel in my pocket to defend myself from horny
trumpet players. You'll have to use the butcher knife...sorry!"

	"Yipes! At least you warned me before I got my throat incised!"

	Benny went to the refrigerator and took out lettuce, tomatoes,
scallions, a bell pepper, a few pepperocini, and a can of croutons. He
began slicing and dicing while Clay made the meatballs and sauce. They
finished about the same time. Next, Clay asked Benny to cut the Italian
bread and baste it with garlic butter as he put the water on the burner for
the pasta.

	Ten minutes later, both were seated at the dining table. Clay lit
two tall candles and the CD changer segued into the next album, 'Chet With
Strings'. Soon the trumpet and voice of Chet Baker were filling a very
romantic setting with the likes of 'I'll Remember You', 'When I Fall In
Love', and 'Autumn In New York'. Neither Clay nor Benny, said a word. They
let Chet do the talking for them.

	Benny filled the glasses with a bit more Chianti than Clay would've
preferred, as he didn't want to get high...or even slightly high. They ate
slowly as Clay began to tell Benny the real reason for the dinner
invitation. He explained about the twelve job-search and how he felt about
St. Bart's. Benny dropped any facade he might have been covering behind and
became genuinely interested in what Clay was saying. He almost felt honored
that Clay would ask his opinion since Benny really HAD no friends who ever
asked his viewpoint about anything.  Clay was a REAL person and treated him
like one, too. This made Benny's feelings for Clay stronger and
deeper...not just a quick roll in the hay, which Benny had wanted. Somehow
Benny was developing an honest friendship...the first in a long, long,
time.

	When Clay finished telling Benny about his dilemma, Benny spoke.
"So you want me to tell you what to do? Or rather, you want to hear what I
would do if I were in your shoes?"

	"I'm open to suggestions. I...I had no one else I could trust."

	"Then, I say, 'FUCK THE OTHER NINE'! Take the job at
St. Bart's. You'll only have two bosses and both of them are really under
the thumb of your friend, Doctor Ed. I mean, you're not signing a 'run of
the play' contract. If you don't like it, you can quit and pursue one of
the others. BUT, if you DO like it, you'll never have a regret about NOT
taking it."

	"That's really the way I was thinking. I just wanted someone else
to say it out loud so I could hear it."

	"Clay?"

	"Yes?"

	"Thanks for asking me. I seldom find someone who wants to know what
I think."

	"You know, Benny, I'm seeing a side of you I bet you don't let many
people see...not even yourself, I bet."

	"I've already told you how much you bring out in my music when I
look at you. Now, you've sorta opened up the REAL me."

	"Does it scare you?"

	"Tremendously! I...I have nothing to hide behind." Even his joke
was an attempted cover-up.

	"Maybe that's why you've never fallen in love. You won't let
someone get to know the real you."

	"How many times have you been in love, Clay?"

	"Once...Only once."

	"With Dave, huh?"

	"Yes."

	"Why not before Dave? I mean, the business you're in, the medical
profession, you must've met lots of guys AND girls. Surely there's been
someone before Dave."

	"Maybe I was like you. I hid the real me and it took Dave to help
me manifest my true self."

	'Chet With Strings' finished playing and the next CD was 'The
Ballad Style of Stan Kenton'. The first song was, 'Early Autumn'.

	"Hey, would you be uncomfortable if I asked you to dance?" Benny
said. "I...I'm not very good, but musicians NEVER get the chance to dance."

	"Sure, I'll trust you." Clay replied with a smile.

	They got up from the table and both of them awkwardly put up their
left hands as they both wanted to lead. They, immediately, they put their
left hands down and raised their right hands as if to follow.

	"Shit!" Benny laughed. "Who's gonna be the girl?"

	"Neither. There's nothing girl-like about either of us. Just put
your arms around my waist and we'll both be the man."

	Their arms went around each other's midsection and pulled their
hips tightly together and began to dance. Neither of them was adept at
footwork, so they just walked around circling in one spot.

	"Dave's a pretty lucky guy to have you," Benny said.

	"You'll find someone like Dave some day, Benny."

	"I don't think there's another guy in the world who can make me
forget about myself the way you do me when I look into your eyes."

	"Benny, please, you promised you wouldn't try anything."

	"I'm only saying what I'm feeling. I'm not trying to put the make
on you."

	"I think we'd better stop," Clay said.

	"Why?"

	"Because I know you want to kiss me."

	"You said that, Clay, because you want to kiss me, don't you?"

	"No, I..."

	Benny interrupted Clay's remark by pressing his lips onto
Clay's. Clay tried to push Benny backward to free himself from Benny's
embrace, but Benny's hands were locked together behind Clay's waist. Clay
tried again and on the third try, Clay submitted and began to kiss
Benny. He put his hands behind Benny's head and their lips opened
instantaneously as their tongues probed deeply into the other's mouth.

	Perhaps Benny was acting only as a substitute for the absent Dave,
but Clay began to make love to him. Benny, on the other hand, never kissed
anyone during his sexual trysts and what he felt toward Clay was honest and
genuine emotion.

	Guilt set aside, Clay needed this tension relief, which had built
incessantly ever since Dave's disappearance. Doctor's and nurses are always
the first to neglect their own health, physical or mental. Chills were
racing up and down his spine. Benny was realized this was a new experience
for him, as he never felt emotion while making love. 'Love'? Is that what
Benny was feeling? He wasn't sure; as he'd never known love in the way he
was feeling while embracing Clay.

	Clay was just the opposite; he had never had the desire for
physical contact without feeling something deeply for his partner. The one
thing they both felt was the bulging erection in the other's pants, each
trying to reach out toward the other.

	The passion between them became more heated. As the kisses grew
numerous, clothes were being torn from the two 'friends' who were embracing
in the middle of the living room...shirts, pants, socks, shoes, and
underwear were being scattered around the room until they were both
naked. Flesh meeting flesh was the law of the moment. Hands began to
explore the other's body, rubbing, caressing, and groping at every point.

	Benny tried to walk their bodies backward to the couch, but Clay
stopped him by saying, "No, the bed! Let's go into the bedroom."

	The tight clinching torsos relaxed as the couple walked into the
bedroom and they fell across the bed to resume their kissing. Clay knew in
his conscious mind that he would regret this later, but at the moment,
nothing seemed to matter. He wasn't in love with Benny but he needed Benny
to release his pent up frustration and anxiety as if it were a form of
emotional masturbation. He didn't consider this as cheating on Dave as he
felt nothing for Benny above friendship. He rationalized his actions from a
medical standpoint by thinking this was only a form of emotional and
physical therapy. He yearned to reach a climax. He hadn't fantasized or
tried to jack off since Dave had been gone.

	Dave's king size bed practically assumed the scenario of a
wrestling arena and with arms wrapped around each other's bodies and their
lips locked in a semi-permanent kiss, Clay and Benny rolled over and over
one another from one end of the mattress to the other.

	Finally it was Benny who uttered the first word since the physical
session began, "Clay, I'm sorry, but I have to have you...ALL of you."

	Without hesitating, Clay replied, "Then, take me, goddamn it!"

	In one svelte swoop, Benny made a lunge toward Clay's genitals,
engulfing Clay's entire penis all the way to his pubes. Clay sighed a loud
guttural sound, releasing all his suppressed tension. Benny's action wasn't
romantic, but instead, rather aggressive, like a hungry Neanderthal
attacking a huge raw meaty bone.  He craved every part of Clay's lower body
and began to lick Clay's inner thighs down to his knees and back up again
to the sperm filled scrotum.

	Benny's fast-growing actions excited Clay to an almost
instantaneous climax in less than half a minute. Clay cried out loudly as
he came. Benny didn't stop until he had cleaned and swallowed every drop of
Clay's liquid offering. Then, with his tongue, he traced a path upward
until he reached Clay's lips once again. Clay received Benny's intrusive
tongue willingly as Benny rested his body on top of Clay's.

	"Thank you," Benny uttered, exhausted and out of
breath. "You... you don't have to do a thing to me. If you have any guilt,
I don't want to add to it."

	"I don't feel guilty, Benny, honest," Clay whispered. "Only...I
WOULD like to stop."

	"I understand," Benny replied, "honest I do."

	Benny rolled off Clay's body and they lay side by side, panting and
looking at the ceiling.

	"Clay?"

	"Yes?"

	"I'm sorry if I went too far."

	"It's OK. I could have stopped you at any moment had I wanted to."

	"You...uh, don't feel guilty?"

	"Maybe I should, but I don't..."

	"I'm glad!"

	"I can't help but believe Dave would had reacted as I did, if our
situations were reversed. I only hope wherever he is, he's safe and
happy. At this moment, I can only wish that someone is making feel as
relaxed as I feel now."

	"Then--you're not angry with me?"

	"No, why should I be?"

	"Look, I understand how you must love Dave, but something strangely
peculiar happened to me when we kissed in the living room. I know you don't
feel anything for me, but I suddenly felt I was in love with you. I've
never felt that way before...EVER! About anyone !"

	"Did you like the feeling?"

	"I have to admit it scared me. It was like all my bedroom affairs
before you were meaningless. Like I've been a fucking whoremonger all my
life, never feeling, never allowing myself to feel..."

	"That's how I felt before I met Dave. I didn't know how to love."

	"Clay, if, or maybe I should say, 'when', Dave comes back, don't
tell him about tonight. What happened was all my doing. I...I played the
active role. You didn't do ANYTHING to me? Got it?"

	"...Only because you didn't give me a chance..."

	"You mean...? Are you sayin'...? Would you've...?"

	"The night isn't over, Benny..."

	"I know...but I don't think you should..."

	"What if I REALLY want to?"

	"Then, I'd be willing, I guess." His shy smile seemed innocent and
child-like.

	"Clay, it's late and I think you've probably missed your
transportation to Jersey. So why don't you spend the night?"

	"You...you really want me to?"

	"Let me go blow out the candles and turn out the lights in the rest
of the apartment. Go to the bathroom if you like and I'll be right back."

	"You're sure...?"

	"Yes, I'm sure."

	Clay did as he said he would, he blew out the candles, made sure
the stove was turned off, and turned out the lights in the kitchen and
living room. He stopped by the CD player and filled the carousel with eight
different CD's, his favorites that he kept in a special pile. The first was
a CD of Jack Sheldon and his mellow fleugelhorn, followed with another Chet
Baker, then Shirley Horn, Claire Hogan, Mel Tormé, Paul Horn, George
Shearing, and André Previn.

	When he went back to the bedroom, Benny had returned from the
bathroom and was lying in bed waiting. Clay walked around to Benny's side
of the bed, pulled back the covers and carefully lay on top of Benny's
still nude body. Benny was already hard with anticipation as Clay kissed
him gently on the lips and whispered, "Now where were we?"

	Clay eased down Benny's taut body and stopped when he reached the
pelvic region. Benny gasped as Clay took him into his mouth and made love
to him, slowly and pensively. After Benny reached an orgasm, Clay returned
his head to share Benny's pillow and they both fell asleep.

<><><><><><>

	The following morning, Clay and Benny awoke, showered separately,
and ate breakfast as two friends might, neither mentioning what had
happened the night before. They conversed lightly about breakfast food,
music, CD's, and Clay's decision of whether or not to accept the position
at St. Bart's. Their parting at the door was nothing more than a friendly
hug. What had happened had happened and they couldn't turn back the
clock. They felt it best to let the actions of the night digest ith time
and discuss it later if necessary.

	Clay would have been lying to himself if he said he didn't feel a
tinge of guilt, because he did. He didn't want to show Benny that he was a
little upset over what had occurred. First of all, he didn't want to ruin
his friendship with Benny, and secondly, an occasion might arise in the
future when he might allow a repeat performance. But Clay didn't want to
think about that just now, for as soon as Benny left, he made his
decision. He ran to the closet and got a dark suit, white shirt, and tie
and dressed hurriedly to go to St. Bart's where he promptly accepted the
position, telling Doctors' Guest and Brantley he would be free to start
next Monday, a week from today. His two new superiors were happy that Clay
had agreed to come on board at St. Bart's and wasted no time in telling him
so.

	When Clay left the hospital, he returned to Dave's apartment to
make two phone calls. He wanted Tom and Rachel to know where he would be
working and for his second phone call, Clay just wanted to hear the sound
of his mother's voice. She and Dave were all he loved in life and since
Dave wasn't around to share his decision, Mom would have to suffice.

	When Clay told Tom about taking the hospital job, Tom almost became
offensive, telling Clay he could do much better; that he was too good for
St. Bart's and he was wasting his talent in a low class facility. Tom began
iterating the numerous positions he and Rachel had lined up for Clay to be
interviewed, telling him he would be famous and practically a millionaire
inside a year. Park Avenue was where Clay belonged...rich and classy with
an upper-echelon clientele. His future as St. Bart's was treating homeless
men and bag ladies; drunks, drug addicts, and street hustlers with AIDS.

	Clay had known this would be Tom's reaction even before he called
him, but he managed to soothe Tom's ire by promising to have dinner with
him and Rachel on Friday night. Tom hoped that he and Rachel could talk
Clay into being more practical over dinner and reassessing his decision
before the following Monday.

	'Good old Mom' was happy for Clay. Elizabeth had always supported
every decision Clay had made throughout his life. She had treated him as an
adult when John died and respected his opinion, even his lifestyle when he
told her he was gay.

	"I don't have to ask if you're sure that's what you want, son,"
Elizabeth said to him over the phone. "You've always done the right thing."

	"Thanks, Mom."

	"Clay," she said hesitantly, "you still haven't learned of Dave's
whereabouts?"

	"No, Mom."

	"I light a candle for him every Sunday before I leave church. What
happened to him was so dreadful. Even though I've never met him, I know how
important he is in your life...which makes him important in my life. I'm
sure you'll hear from him soon. I spoke with Robert about it and he's known
several men who were assaulted like Dave...some in prisons, some were
attacked on the street while being robbed, and Robert said that the
emotional trauma far outweighs the physical damage. He says sometimes it
takes professional therapy for one to recover. He said he knows that Dave
is experiencing shame and lack of self-esteem. He has to confront his
monstrous problem and accept himself as being a worthy person once
again. When he comes to grips with that, he'll return to you and ask you to
accept him."

	"Mom, you know I will. I only wish I had him here now so that I
could help him."

	"Give Dave time, Clay. He'll come back...I promise."

	"Mom, you always know how to say the right thing. You always have."

	"Clay, when your father died, you were all I had in my life until I
met Robert. I've always been here for you and I always will be."

	"I love you, Mom."

	"I love you too, son...so does Robert."

	"Uh...how many dogs does Robert have now?"

	"DON'T ASK." Her voice held a tender smile.

	"Why?"

	"He's actually having war with the Weston Town Council. Your
stepfather wants to build a kennel in back of the house. I don't think
there's a limit on the amount of pets a person can own. I know there was no
restriction in Plantation, so long as your animals were well-fed and cared
for and were licensed and contained from roaming the streets unattended."

	"How many, Mom?"

	"Ten...!"

	Clay laughed. "Good old Robert! He's taking up where I left off. If
I could, and if I were still living at home, I'd probably have a dozen
myself."

	"Do you think there's any chance of your coming to Florida for
Thanksgiving or Christmas? We'd love to see you. Maybe by then, Dave will
be back and you can bring him with you?"

	"God, that would be wonderful! Christmas...warm
weather...Dave... you...Robert...the ten dogs. I couldn't ask for anything
more."

	"Think about it and let me know!"

	"I will."

	"Oh, Clay, before I forget, do you remember Scott Parsons, your
friend who used to live next door to us?"

	"Of course, Mom, he was my best friend."

	"I ran into him the other day in Publix Supermarket and he asked
about you."

	"Good heavens? Where is he? What's he been doing?"

	"He's the band director at some college...and please don't ask me
its name because I don't remember, but it's up in New England somewhere. He
asked about you and I told him you'd moved to New York... and I hope you
don't mind, but I gave him Dave's phone number to call you. He was down
here in Plantation visiting Emily, his mother, and was going back up north
THIS weekend. I told him, if he had any reason to stop in New York, to give
you a call."

	"Damn, it would be great to see him. You know, I had two or three
letters after he went away to college and that's the last I heard from
him."

	"Well, I'm glad you didn't get angry at me for giving him the phone
number."

	"No, Mom, I'm very glad you did."

	"Clay, I want you to know, I'm really happy for you and your new
job. I want you to be happy as well."

	"I will, Mom."

	"I don't have to say this, but anything you want...night or day,
just call me or Robert..."

	"I will, Mom, I promise. Give Robert my love and pat all ten dogs
on their heads for me. Tell 'em it's from their step-brother, the doctor at
St. Bart's in New York City!"

	"I will, my love."

	"Thanks, Mom, and goodbye."

	"Goodbye, darling."

	The call to his mother was exactly what Clay needed to lift his
spirits and give him the encouragement he might've gotten from Dave. He
looked about the room, trying to decide if he should paint the apartment
and make its appearance more cheerful as he had a whole week before he was
to assume his duties at his new work place. Then he decided against it in
the same moment. He wanted everything kept in its place to remind him of
Dave. It was still early afternoon and Clay thought he would take a
walk...maybe even take a cab up to Central Park and spend the rest of the
day there, sitting on a bench, observing the New York natives. So he went
to the closet and retrieved a lightweight jacket and started to leave when
the phone rang. His heart stopped before it began to pound in his
chest. Perhaps it was Dave calling or someone who had heard from him.

	"Hello?" he answered in a nervous voice.

	"Clay?"

	"Yes?"

	"This is Scott...Scott Parsons, the boy next door."

	"My God, Scott! I was just talking to my mother in Florida about
you. She said you might be calling me, but I thought it'd be later in the
week. Where are you?"

	"I'm at JFK airport on my way to Boston."

	"Jesus Christ! How long before your flight? Can I come and see
you?"

	"I called because I wanted to see you. I...don't have to take the
next flight. I can get a plane to Boston at almost any hour."

	"Then where can I meet you, Scott?"

	"I don't know...you're the New Yorker, you tell me and I'll meet
YOU there."

	"Why don't you take a shuttle to Grand Central Station and I'll
meet you there?"

	"I'll do my best to find it."

	"I'll wait however long it takes, I have nothing to do for a whole
week."

	"I hope it doesn't take THAT long for us to meet!"

	"I'm kidding. You won't have any trouble. Do you think we'll
recognize one another after all these years? Should I wear a purple
hyacinth in my lapel or something?"

	"I think I'll know you. I could never forget your eyes, Clay. I saw
them in my sleep every night for years after I left you to go to
college. I'm sure they're just as beautiful now as they were then."

	"You bullshitter! Shut up, get off the fucking phone, and deliver
your ass to Grand Central!"

	"Okay...see you soon."

	After Clay hung up the phone, he stood there stunned for a couple
of seconds. 'Did he say my 'beautiful eyes'?' Clay thought to himself. The
Scott he knew would never say anything like that. Sure, they had had teen
sex, but had never spoken affectionately to each other...ever. Was Scott
gay now? Better yet, why was it so important that Scott wanted to meet him
after nearly ten years?

	Clay locked the apartment and flagged down the nearest off-duty cab
and sped toward 34th to Grand Central Station.  The taxi caught a red light
at 34th and had to wait for a Greyhound bus to pass. The marquee on the
front of the bus said, "San Francisco". Clay remembered how he once wanted
to go to California when he was a teen.

	On the bus, Dave looked out the window and saw a Yellow Cab and
thought how nice it would be to take a taxi and go to Central Park with
Clay, but that would never happen. The bus turned north and Clay's cab
turned east and passed within ten feet of each other. Two minutes later,
Clay paid the driver and rushed into Grand Central to await Scott.

	Clay waited over forty-five minutes before he spotted Scott coming
through an iron gate. Scott looked the same, only a bit older. He weighed
about the same; he still combed his hair the same way. Scott was still
Scott...Or was he?

	"Hey, big guy!" Clay shouted as he ran to hug Scott.

	"My God, Clay, you look wonderful!" Scott exclaimed as he gave Clay
another hug.

	"So do you!" Clay replied as he tried to pry himself away from
Scott to get a better look at him.

	"Not yet!" Scott said, holding Clay closer and tighter. "I've been
dreaming of this moment for years and I don't want to let go."

	"All right, if you're not ashamed to hug a guy in New York, then
neither am I," Clay said blatantly.

	Scott realized he had said too much too quickly and he suddenly
became self-conscious at the picture of two men hugging an extended welcome
and he let go of Clay.

	"I'm sorry."

	"For what?"

	"Making an ass out of myself..."

	"You mean hugging?"

	"Well...yes."

	"Shit, if you wanna, I'll kiss you right here and now on the lips!"

	"You wouldn't dare!"

	"Wanna bet? You oughta remember never to dare me to do anything!"

	"How well I DO remember!"

	"So? Where do you want to go? Are you hungry? Wanna a bite of late
lunch?"

	"No, thanks. Is there somewhere we can go to just sit and talk?"

	"I know JUST the place," Clay replied. "As a matter of fact, that's
where I was headed when you phoned me."

	"Then let's go."

	Off they went to catch a cab and headed to Central Park at Columbus
Circle. Clay tipped the driver and took Scott down the route Dave had taken
him...to the exact same park bench where he and Dave had sat. Without
giving it a second thought, Clay took Scott's hand and held it.

	"Now, big guy, fill me in. My mom says you're a big band director
at some New England college."

	"Let me just look at you first, Clay. I still can't believe I'm
sitting here, gazing into your eyes and knowing it's really YOU, not a
fantasy."

	"You wanna feel me to make sure? You used to feel me in the nicest
places! I hope you didn't forget!"

	"No, that part of you, like your eyes, I've never forgotten."

	"What's all this shit about my eyes? You're the third person who's
commented about them."

	"You should see them as other people do. They're beautiful, Clay,
almost too pretty for a man."

	"Jesus, I'll get me some colored lenses or wear dark glasses. Now
where is this college?"

	"I have lots to tell you. So much has happened, especially in the
last two weeks. I...I needed someone to talk with. That's why I went home
to Florida to see my mother...but...but I was too chicken shit. I couldn't
open up to her...and then, as luck would have it, I ran into your mom at
Publix and she told me about your living in New York...and that's when I
knew I HAD to find you. You're the only person in the world I could think
of that would understand..."

	"Damn, Scott! What the fuck's happened? You sound like some fortune
teller just gave you some bad news."

	"If it had only been a fortune teller, I might feel better."

	"Well, for God's sake, don't keep me in suspense, just TELL ME!"

	"I don't know where to begin."

	"Anywhere and we'll piece it together."

	Scott sighed and his tear ducts suddenly filled up.

	"Well...up until two weeks ago, I had the number one collegiate
marching band in New England. I...I had a wife...two kids...both boys."

	"What do you mean 'had'?"

	"All right...you see, there was this student...in my band...a young
man. He played clarinet...and...and he...he reminded me of you the first
time I ever saw him."

	"So...?"

	"Well, I don't know whether I was trying to go back and recapture
what you and I once had...but this young man and I became very close... TOO
close."

	"You...had sex with him?"

	"Yes."

	"And...?"

	"We...we kept our affair a secret. The last thing in the world I
wanted was for Patti, my wife, to find out about us."

	"Uh oh..."

	"Wait! It gets worse!"

	"How much worse?"

	"Well, the student, my young friend, was also dating a girl for
cover."

	"That's normal, I suppose."

	"And he was sleeping around with a bunch of other guys his age."

	"That's normal too."

	"Then the scandal broke loose..."

	"What fucking scandal?"

	"I was one of his ten victims to whom he gave HIV..."

	"WHAT?"

	"I've got it, Clay...one hundred percent positive."

	"Jesus Christ!"

	"I had to tell Patti so that she could get tested. That's when she
took the boys and left me."

	"God, I'm sorry, Scott."

	"Then the faculty administrator found out when my young friend
turned in my name at the Boston CDC and I was suspended, not for having the
virus but for having had sex with one of my students. So I lost my job, my
children, and my wife...plus maybe my life, all in one week. I HAD to tell
someone. I need someone to tell me what to do. You're the only person in my
life I wanted to tell and it must have been fate, karma, or Almighty God
that made me run into your mother the other day."

	"What do you want to do, Scott?"

	"I was hoping all the way to New York that I could stay with you
until I decide what I want to do...whether I want to start on the
'cocktail' or ease on out quietly and disappear..."

	"Of course you can stay with me, Scott, I have plenty of room."

	"You wanna know my biggest regret in life?"

	"What, big guy?"

	"The first year I went away to college after I left you...I used to
lie in bed, thinking about our musical afternoons with your dad... and how
we used to sneak into your room and jerk each other off or trade
BJ's. Three months later, it occurred to me that I loved you and never told
you."

	"Scott, we were both to young to talk about love."

	"No, Clay, I knew it then...and I know it now. In my heart, I've
always loved you."

	"Did you bring your luggage from the plane?" Clay asked, trying to
quickly change the subject, at least momentarily.

	"Yeah, I checked it at Grand Central."

	"Let's go get your bags and get you settled at my place in the
Village. We can talk about this later...and come to some kind of solution."

	"Before we go, Clay, can I ask one question?"

	"Sure, buddy."

	"Did you ever love me a little?"

	"...Yeah, I guess I did, Scott. My dad used to tell me that one
never forgets his first love...and I guess you were my first. Come on,
let's go."


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(To be continued in "Lush Life" chapter eight)