Date: Thu, 25 Feb 2010 15:57:33 -0800 (PST)
From: Jerlar <jetdesk2@yahoo.com>
Subject: Nurse and the Patient, Part 7

This story contains graphic sexual scenes between males. If material of
this nature offends you then you should not read this story.  Additionally,
if you are under 18 years of age in most states you are not allowed to read
this story by law.
  This story is purely a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to person's
living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely
coincidental.
  The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication or
publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to which it
has been posted, without the consent of the author.

Mark Stevens
Jetdesk2@yahoo.com



"The Nurse and the Patient, Part 7


	Jonathan woke up early the next morning. He lay there a while
watching Lance as he slept. He ran over in his mind what had happened the
night before. Not only had Lance declared his love for him, but Jonathan
had admitted his feelings for his patient. As he thought about Lance and
how much he cared for him, Jonathan felt a mixture of happiness and
fear. He was happy that Lance felt the same way he did, yet at the same
time, that happiness was laced with fear.
	Jonathan was definitely in love with Lance, yet, he wondered how it
could possibly work out. The fact that he and Lance had grown up in very
different worlds played big in his thoughts. Jonathan had always had to
work for everything he ever had, as had his mother. That was the way she
had raised him. Lance, on the other hand, had been given
everything. Everything except happiness, Jonathan thought.
	Lance moaned in his sleep, and for a moment Jonathan thought he was
waking. However, he continued sleeping, breathing at a slow even
pace. Jonathan remained in bed beside him for another moment or two, and
then slowly eased his way off the bed. He wanted Lance to sleep as long as
possible, and he thought if he left him alone, his patient would get the
rest he needed.
	He hurried out to the kitchen and started the morning coffee. Then
he headed to his room to shower and set his day into motion.
	Later, his shower over, Jonathan dressed and returned to the
kitchen, ready for his first cup of coffee. He poured a cup and returned
down the hall to peek in on his patient. He discovered Lance still sleeping
peacefully, so he returned to the den. The house was so quiet, so peaceful,
and it felt good just to relax for a bit before the day got under way.
	Lance had finished his coffee and was dosing when he was brought to
by a voice calling out, "Hey, anybody out there?"
	Jonathan stood to his feet and hurried down the hall. When he came
into Lance's room, he discovered his patient sitting up in bed, his back
against the head board, and wearing a big grin on his face.
	"When did you sneak out of bed?" Lance asked.
	"Not long ago," Jonathan answered. "You were sleeping so peacefully
I didn't want to disturb you."
	"Come here, you," Lance said, holding out his arms.
	Jonathan walked over to the bed. "Good morning," he greeted. He
leaned over and kissed Lance on the mouth.
	Lance pulled him close and held him. "I missed you."
	Jonathan pulled back and said, "How could you? I haven't been gone
that long."
	"Just an eternity," Lance told him.
	"You seemed to sleep well last night," Jonathan said.
	"I did," Lance nodded. "Because you were here," he added.
	"You ready for some coffee? I've already had a cup."
	Jonathan brought two steaming cups back and handed one to
Lance. "Here you go," he said. He pulled the wing back chair over near the
bed and sat down. "I did sleep well," he said.
	"You should have after shooting a load the size you did," Lance
reminded him.
	"I seem to remember someone else that had an even bigger load,"
Jonathan teased.
	"Fuck, when you have a nurse that doesn't tend to all of your
needs, that's what happens." He emphasized the word `all' as he spoke.
	"Excuse me, but I think I've done a damned good job `tending to
your needs', as you put it."
	Lance reached over and brushed a hand against Jonathan's
shoulder. "Yes, you have," he agreed quietly.
	They drank their coffee for a time surrounded by silence in the
room. Finally Lance asked, "Why so quiet, Jon?"
	"No reason, I guess."
	"Come on, talk to me."
	"I've just had a lot of things running through my mind."
	When he didn't continue, Lance said, "Such as?"
	"Just a lot of shit."
	"Let's hear the `shit'?"
	"Can you give me some time to process all that's going on here?"
	"Sure, if that's what you need." Lance looked at Jonathan for a
moment and then said, "Can I ask you something?"
	"Sure," Jonathan answered.
	"Have I moved too fast for you?"
	Jonathan didn't answer right away. Instead, he just looked at Lance
over the rim of his coffee cup.
	"Fuck, I messed up, didn't I?"
	Jonathan smiled. "No, Lance, you haven't fucked up. You realize,
don't you, that the two of us, we're very different, especially in the way
we grew up."
	Lance asked, "How different?"
	"I think you know the answer to that."
	"What I see is a guy, one with two very bad legs at the moment, who
has fallen hopelessly in love with his hot sexy nurse. That is all I see,"
he ended.
	Jonathan said, "You want to know what I see?" Before Lance could
answer, he said, "What I see is a dumb good for nothing nurse who has
fallen in love with his hot patient. However, I see a little more than
that."
	"Meaning?"
	"Do I have to spell it out for you?"
	"You mean the fucking money?"
	"That is a large part of it," Jonathan agreed.
	"Screw it." Lance raised his hand in the air, his middle finger
standing by itself.
	"Nevertheless, it is there," Jonathan reminded. "And, along with
that comes your father."
	"You want him in the picture?"
	Jonathan shook his head, saying, "Aren't you following me here?"
	"I guess not. I'm too fucking dumb to stay on track with you."
	Jonathan stood to his feet. "Those are your words, definitely not
mine." He walked to the door. "I'll make some breakfast."
	"Jonathan, wait."
	Jonathan turned around. "What?" he asked. He kept his eyes on the
floor, refusing to look at Lance.
	"I'm sorry. That remark was uncalled for," he added.
	"Yeah, you're right about that"
	Jonathan turned back around and left the room. He went to the
kitchen and put a meal together. He had so much on his mind, and he was
damned glad he could stay busy. He worked quietly moving around the room as
he put together a very appetizing meal. He took a tray loaded with food
into Lance and sat it on his lap.
	"Can I get you something else?" he asked.
	"Are you going to eat something?"
	"I'm not much of a breakfast eater. Coffee and a bagel is my
usual."
	"You mind bringing your `usual' and joining me?"
	Jonathan left the room, soon returning with a tray of his own,
containing his bagel and another cup of coffee.
	They ate their entire meal in silence, neither one making an
attempt to carry on conversation. Jonathan finished eating first and stood
to his feet.
	"Jonathan, may I say something?"
	"Of course, what's on your mind?" Jonathan took his seat once more.
	"I want to have a talk with you."
	"I'm listening," Jonathan said when Lance didn't continue.
	"Jonathan, I know the two of us are different. We're as different
as night and day, and that is good. It would be pretty damned boring if we
were just alike, don't you agree?"
	"I'm sure."
	"Jonathan, does it bother you that I have money?"
	Jonathan looked at Lance and remained silent, no words coming from
his mouth.
	"Well, it shouldn't," Lance told him. "It's there, I know it, and
you know it. However, it doesn't mean the two of us aren't good for each
other, that we can't love one another."
	Jonathan still didn't speak. He sat there listening as Lance talked
from the bed.
	"And I know my old man's a pain in the ass," Lance went on. "That's
not likely to change. He's been one all of my life, and he will always be
one."
	"And it's going to make him an even bigger pain to you when he
finds out about us," Jonathan pointed out.
	"Fuck him, Jonathan." Once more Lance shot his middle finger in the
air. "He's already the most miserable son of a bitch on earth, so why
should that matter."
	"It matters because I don't want to be the one making matters even
worse for you. And I will, you know that."
	"Again, fuck him!" Then Lance lowered his voice and said,
"Jonathan, it's you I love. You're the one who has made me happy, made me
even want to try and get my life back into sync. Can't you see, it's
because of you that I even have a desire to fight him and to go forward
with my life? Jonathan, I want you to know something."
	"What's that?"
	Lance motioned for him to come over to the bed. "Come sit beside
me. Please," he said.
	Jonathan left his chair and walked over to the bed. He sat on the
side and felt Lance's arms go around his shoulders.
	"I want to tell you something, and I want you to listen until I'm
finished. That Sunday afternoon was not an accident. I intentionally did
what I did."
	"You were drunk," Jonathan reminded him.
	"You promised to let me talk, remember?"
	Jonathan nodded.
	"I was drunk, all right. I had started drinking the night before,
and I kept on drinking all through the night, even into Sunday morning. You
see, my dad had been to see me the day before. It was not a pleasant visit;
I can assure you of that. Why I let it bother me, I have no idea, but I
did. By the time he left he had raked me over the coals again and again,
and as he was going out the door, he told me he regretted the day I had
ever been born, and he was so grateful my mother was dead. He said at least
she didn't have to see what her son had turned out to be. Her son," Lance
repeated. "He didn't even have the balls to say our son. I had already been
drinking some, but after he left, I decided to really throw one on and try
to forget the son of a bitch had ever been there. Well, I did, and sometime
later a plan began to form in my mind. He wanted me out of his life, he had
told me that several times. My mother was gone, I had no one, so, why stick
around? Fuck them all, I thought. I'm not sure when I got into my car, but
I did. God knows how I even made it out of the drive, let alone drove the
distance I did before I crashed. All I could think of was just end it for
everyone. For the old man who hated my guts, for my mother who hadn't the
heart to live, and finally for me who simply did not give a fuck whether I
lived another day or not."
	Lance had finished, the words coming to a stop. For a moment he
remained as he was, his arms still wrapped around Jonathan's
shoulders. Finally he said, "There, you have it, Jon. Maybe I am a nut
case, and you are right in putting on the breaks and not getting involved
in my life. Can't say I much blame you," he ended.
	Jonathan suddenly turned around and faced him. Tears were streaming
down his cheeks and he attempted to brush them away. "You asshole, can't
you see? I am involved in your life," he said. As he spoke, the words came
out between sobs. "In the short time I've known you I've come to realize
you are my life."
	He kissed Lance on the mouth, and in that moment they both realized
there would be no turning back. As they walked through an invisible door
and closed it behind them, they knew there would be only one way for them
to go, and that way was forward.




<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<



	For Jonathan and Lance, each day was like sharing an adventure
together. Although nothing had changed and the days were the same as
before, still the love they shared was so new to them that it made
everything seem different. Jonathan still started his days early each
morning making sure Lance was taken care of, his needs met, and even Lance
made an effort to help in his recovery.
	One morning Jonathan had talked his patient into getting out of bed
and eating his breakfast at the table in the kitchen. They had finished
their meal and were talking over a second cup of coffee when the telephone
rang.
	Lance told Jonathan to answer it.
	Jonathan picked up the telephone, and after his initial greeting,
was silent, listening. He handed the phone to Lance. "It's for you," he
said.
	Jonathan took his seat at the table. He took a sip from his coffee
cup. As he sat there listening to Lance talk, he could tell he was getting
upset.
	"What the hell am I suppose to do?" he asked.
	Jonathan couldn't tell what was being said from the other end. He
listened as Lance said. "Tony, there's not a thing I can do." He paused,
and then said, "Are you certain?"
	A few minutes later Lance said, "Let me think it over, okay? I'll
get back with you, Tony."
	Lance ended his telephone conversation and sat the phone down on
the table in front of him.
	Jonathan asked, "Something wrong?"
	"I'm not sure. That was Tony Miller on the phone. He's the one Dad
hired to take my place when he fired my ass."
	Jonathan was curious, but he didn't question Lance. Instead, he sat
there quietly drinking from his coffee cup. If Lance wanted to discuss
whatever this was he would.
	"Tony thinks Dad is screwing the company."
	"I thought you said there was a top notched auditing company that
was taking care of things," Jonathan reminded him.
	"I thought there was," Lance said.
	"Are you going to do something?"
	"I'm not sure I can," Lance said. "After all, I'm not even allowed
on the property any longer."
	"If you are an equal share holder, I can't see how that can
happen," Jonathan pointed out.
	"I agree, you are right," Lance said. "However, I have just found
it easier not to fight the old man and just stay away." Lance looked
thoughtful as he sat across the table from Jonathan. Finally he said, "I
think I will give Tony a call back. It can't hurt to hear what he says."
	Jonathan agreed. "If you don't want to meet him at the office, why
don't you ask him to drop by here? In fact, I don't mind fixing a meal," he
told Lance. "I can leave the two of you alone afterward and give you some
privacy. I'll just go to my room."
	Lance looked at him, a glare showing in his eyes. "Why the hell
would you do that?"
	"This is a private matter."
	"It's also a family matter, and you are my family. I thought you
knew that."
	"I know that. I also know you have business, and it really isn't
any of my business."
	"It is your business, Jon. You have to know that," Lance added.
	Jonathan grinned and said, "If you tell your father that I am now
part of your family, he may just kick up his heels and run, leaving you and
your company on your own."
	"I doubt that. He's had it made all of these years, and he's not
about to give what he has up now."
	"Your mother obviously came from money. Was your father as
fortunate?"
	"I don't know much about Dad's people," Lance admitted. "I just
know that every time my mother was willing to dish a little more his way,
he always had his hands out to get hold of it. He always referred to what
she did as `trusting him to handle things'."
	After talking a bit longer, Lance decided to call Tony Miller back
and ask him to come to dinner the following night. He made his telephone
call, and when he hung up, he turned to Jonathan and smiled. "He'll be here
at seven."
	"Good. I'll get some ideas from you later and go to the market."
Jonathan stood to his feet. "Now, you about ready for your bath?" he asked.
	He helped Lance back into bed and went for the things he needed to
give him his bath. When he returned to the room, he discovered Lance had
already pulled his shirt off. He had tossed it to the floor.
	Jonathan sat his pan of water on the table beside the bed. "Anxious
for your bath, I see."
	"What I'm anxious for is that you strip off your clothes before you
bathe me," Lance said with a grin. "I don't want you to get wet," he added.
	"I've always stayed dry before," Jonathan reminded.
	"That was before, as you say. I'm not so sure that would happen
now," he decided.
	Jonathan laughed. "Whatever. I won't give you a hassle."
	"There you go again, using that word," Lance reminded him. "It use
to piss you off when I said it."
	"Yeah, whatever."
	Jonathan reached up and pulled his shirt up over his head and
tossed it to the floor. "There, is this better?" he asked.
	Lance leaned over and looked down. "You had better remove those
scrub pants. I would hate like hell for those to get wet too. You might
catch cold," he added.
	Jonathan just shook his head and slowly pulled his scrub pants
down, letting them fall to the floor. He gave them a swift kick across the
room and stood there naked beside the bed.
	"Fuck, you are naked!
	"No shit, Sherlock."
	Jonathan reached for the rag and threw it in the soapy water. "It's
time to clean you up," he said.
	He felt Lance reach over and touch his cock. "I want to clean this
first," he said. He pulled Jonathan closer to him, using his dick as a
rope; a rope that was quickly thickening up and growing.
	"Behave," Jonathan said. He tried to make his voice sound gruff and
failed.
	He let Lance pull him over. He stood there next to the bed and
enjoyed the touch of Lance's fingers as they gently squeezed his balls and
then slowly snaked their way up through his thick blond forest. By the time
he felt Lance's fingers wrap around the shaft of his cock, he was
completely hard and standing, surrounded by thick cock tangles. Lance
started to stroke him, slowly at first, and each movement brought him
closer to falling over the edge.
	"God, Lance, you're going to make me cum," he groaned.
	He felt Lance stroke him faster and soon the intense feeling of
cuming started out in his groin and quickly spread throughout his entire
body. He shuddered as the first rope of cum shot out the end of his cock
and covered Lance's fingers.
	A few minutes later after Jonathan had managed to recover somewhat,
he looked down and saw Lance's own hard cock standing tall and leaking a
thick stream of pre cum. He leaned over and brought his lips to the tip
where the sticky liquid was oozing over the edge. He slowly wrapped his
lips around the head and made his way all the way down until his nose was
buried at the base of Lance's cock, his brown curls tickling Jonathan's
nose.
	"Fuck, that feels good," Lance moaned. "Yeah, suck my cock," he
groaned.
	The faster Jonathan worked his mouth, the harder Lance
groaned. "Suddenly he screamed out, "I'm cuming!"
	Jonathan felt the first wave of cum hit the back of his throat, and
he swallowed quickly, enjoying the taste of the thick hot cream as the rest
of the hot load rolled across his tongue and down his throat.
	When Jonathan had sucked Lance's cock dry, he removed his mouth and
grinned. "You were supposed to take a bath, not get your cock sucked."
	"I'm definitely not complaining. Are you?"
	Jonathan eyed the still hard cock standing in the middle Lance's
thick brown bush. "Definitely not," he agreed.
	"I didn't think so. Now, are you going to help me with my bath or
just stand there?"
	"I could stand here and look at you all day," Jonathan said, "but
that wouldn't get you cleaned up."
	"Might be a lot more fun," Lance teased.
	Jonathan squeezed out the wet rag and threw it at Lance. "Sorry,
ain't going to happen," he laughed. "Get busy," he added.
	Jonathan searched in the drawer and found a clean shirt for Lance
to put on. He returned to the side of the bed just as Lance finished
washing himself and handed him the towel. "Here, dry off, and I'll help you
dress."
	As he watched Lance dry his face and stomach, Jonathan wondered how
he could suddenly be as happy as he was. When he looked at Lance, it was if
he they had always known each other. It was hard to believe that not even a
month had passed since the two of them had first met.
	"Why so deep in thought?" Lance asked him.
	"I was just thinking," Jonathan answered.
	"I hope it was good thoughts," Lance said.
	Jonathan looked at him, a tender smile forming on his lips, and
said, "Oh, it was good, all right. I was thinking about you." Jonathan
reached down and kissed Lance on the mouth. "About how much I really do
love you," he added.


End Part 7.