Date: Tue, 1 Jul 2008 14:01:25 -0700 (PDT)
From: Harry Rod <harryrod575@yahoo.com>
Subject: What choice do you have - alternate ending 2

Alternating Ending 2  - I received many emails regarding where this story
should go -- so I am presenting two alternative endings.  You can write and
tell me which one you prefer.

***

I handed him his jacket as I entered the open door to my apartment. 
Standing inside the door, I looked around in disbelief.  There was nothing
there. Nothing.  I ran into the bedroom and it was the same, empty.  The
cable wire seemed to have been cut and the telephone wire ripped out of the
wall.   

Even the stove and refrigerator were gone!  And they came with the
apartment.  I sat down naked in the empty living room and pulled my legs to
my chest and began rocking.  Everything I had in the world was gone.  No
keys, no wallet, no money, nothing.   

I felt a hand on my shoulder; I looked up through watering eyes, and saw
the man was still there.  He was holding out his jacket to me and said,
"You can stay at my place until you get things squared away." 

I shrugged my shoulders, not able to speak.  He said, "I mean, what choice
do you have?" 

I sat there rocking, feeling despair overwhelm me.  He was right: what
choice did I have.   

Then I was being kicked awake.  It was a dream!  I jerked up and looked
around.  It was a dream.  But a dream of what had happened.    

It has been a year now, and it has pretty much gotten into a routine.  He
no longer stays at the apartment with me.  But he has it set up so that I
have a pile of sheets and blankets to sleep in.  He cuffs one arm to a
chain on the wall when he leaves.  I can move from my nest in the corner to
the other corner with the seatless toilet in it.  The little sink is near
by, with a little pantry box in the middle of the wall, below where the
chain is connected, within reach as well.   

I didn't spend a lot of time in the apartment;  I was basically taken there
to sleep when they were done with me.   

Today he gave me the usually badly ripped jeans to put on.  They were so
holey that my ass was at least half exposed and my cock and balls were
visible as I moved and sat.  The same was true of the t-shirt.  And I was
never given a jacket or hat to wear, no matter what the weather was.  I had
slip-on shoes that had soles so thin they barely kept the dirt off the
bottom of my feet.   

He took me down stairs and onto a bus.  I always had to sit in the most
open seat on the bus, so that my nearly naked body was constantly on
display.  The one time I had tried to cover my crotch with my hands, he had
taken out handcuffs and cuffed my hands behind me.  Then he had reached
down and ripped the hole in my crotch so big, I might as well have been
sitting there naked.  I had learned.   

We rode downtown and got off at a stop we hadn't been to before.  He took
me down a flight of cement steps behind a stairwell, where he opened a
metal door and led me down a narrow cement hallway.   

Then he opened a door and pushed me in.  Inside, a man was waiting.  He was
a little man but powerful.  He wore a black leather vest and pants, and
smiled when he saw me.  He nodded his head and said something that sounded
like it was in an eastern European language.   

He took out a large wad of cash and passed it over to the man I had begun
to refer to as Bill.  I had no idea what his real name was.  Bill looked at
me, smiled, and said, "Strip."   

I quickly got out of my ragged clothes as I had been taught.  He looked at
the man again.  He nodded and grinned.  Bill looked at me, smiled, and
said, "Be good, and have fun!"  He slapped me on the ass and left.  He
rarely left me alone with someone.  This man worried me.   

He motioned for me to stand in front of him.  I moved over and spread my
legs as I had been taught.  He ran his hands over my body, inspecting me. 
He tweaked my nipples and twisted them.  I bit my lip to keep from letting
any noise escape.   

He noticed this and smiled wickedly.   

He took my arm and stretched it up and restrained it with a leather strap. 
He did the same with the other arm.  Then he stretched my legs apart and
secured them to straps attached to the floor.   

Next, he ran his rough hands over my body again, causing me to shiver.  He
laughed and pulled his arm back and punched me in the stomach.  The wind
was knocked out of me, and I thought I was going to throw up.  I fought to
get air in my lungs.   

He laughed and punched me in the chest.  I grunted.  He began a series of
punches - hitting my chest, sides, lower back, and arms.   

I gritted my teeth and tried to hold back.  Finally, I screamed, "Please,
no more!"   

He laughed wickedly.  He then picked up a strap, swung it through the air,
and hit me on the ass with a resounding slap.  I tried to relax and go with
the pain.  I had learned that tightening up only made it worse.   

He went at my ass and upper thighs until he was sweating and I was again
begging him to stop.   

Someplace along there, the door opened and Bill came in.  He looked me over
and smiled.  Did I see a hint of worry in his face?  He stepped over and
whispered to the man.  The man nodded.  He walked over to a cabinet, opened
it, and took out a box.  He opened the box and brought out a stack of
bills.  It was twice the size of the one he had given to Bill the first
time.   

He gave Bill the money, and  Bill riffled through the stack.  I thought I
could see that they were hundreds.  That was a lot of money.  Bill looked
at me and then at the stack.  The man walked back to the box and brought
out another stack.   

Bill took the money and nodded.  The little man smiled evilly.  Bill went
to stand in one of the corners, while the man picked up the strap and began
to wale on my ass and thighs.  Soon, I was crying and begging him or Bill
to make it stop.   

The little man would just laugh and swing harder.  He was dripping sweat
when I saw him move to the front of me.  He began to use me as a punching
bag with solid hits all over my body.  I knew I would be one solid bruise
when he finished, if he finished.   

At one point I passed out and was awakened by water being thrown on my
face.  He began to use a riding crop to tap by balls.  He kept this up
until the repetition began to get to me.  It began to hurt more and more. 
When he saw me flinch, he laughed and increased both the tempo and the
intensity.   

Soon, I was once again begging him to stop.  He laughed and began to
increase everything.  I was hanging limply, begging and sobbing, when he
finally stopped.   

He took something from his cabinet and walked behind me.  Without any
preparation or anything, he shoved it up my ass.  The pain was
excruciating.  He just laughed and brought a box out to a table in front of
me.   

There was a wire running from the box to someplace behind me.  I knew it
had to be hooked to whatever was in my ass.  I had been hit with electro
stimulation before.  But I had a feeling this wasn't going to be the simple
trickles that had been put through me earlier.   

He flipped a switch and turned a knob.  The jolt of electricity surged
through my ass, hit my prostate, and made me jump.  My cock raised as he
switched the current on and off, stimulating me more and more each time.   

When he had gotten me hard, he hooked a metal ring just behind the head of
my cock and one around the base of my balls.  I worried what this man was
going to do with these. He seemed to have no qualms about doing anything to
me.  I looked at Bill to see if he was going to help me.  He was looking at
the floor.   

When the little man had all the wires hooked up, he went back to the box. 
He switched it on and I felt a jolt of electricity through my cock, balls,
and ass.  My whole body went rigid as I clenched my teeth to try and deal
with the pain and current.   

He flipped it off and I fought to get my breath.  Then he turned the knob
and flipped it again.  I thought I was going to pass out.  My cock throbbed
and bobbed.  I cried out.   

He laughed evilly again, and turned it off, but then, after turning the
knob, flipped it back on again.  My cock throbbed and began to shoot, but
the pain was terrible.  I was fighting the sensations of pleasure and
pain.  My whole body shook through the orgasm.   

He flipped it off and let me hang.  I closed my eyes to try to focus and
gather my senses, so I didn't see him adjusting the knobs and flip the
switch.  I just felt the jolt and my whole body tensed again.  He hit me
this way several more times until I felt the rush of release again.  He had
made me cum again, and, again, the whole pleasure pain emotions confused
me.   

He continued to do this until I passed out, but he again woke me with cold
water.  I saw that all the wires had been removed.  He went back to
punching me. But this time he went at with a strong sadistic vein.   

This time he held nothing back.  I felt a rib crack, and gasped.  Then he
started on my face.  He broke my nose and, not soon after the hit to the
jaw, I passed out.   

Images and emotions swirled around in my mind.  Images of my family, and
fellow workers, would appear, either looking at me with distain or
mockingly with laughter.  Bill and the many things he had put me through
began to get mixed up with family and friends doing them to me.  I curled
up and huddled in a fetal position to keep from being assaulted.   

Then there were whole blocks of blackness.  I seemed to have alternated
between fits of confusion and blankness.  It seemed that this went on
forever.  I began to wonder if I had died.   

I became aware of a soft defused light.  I heard whispered voices around
me.  I tried to open my eyes and couldn't.  I tried to struggle and
realized that I was restrained.  I feebly struggled.  I realized I had no
strength.   

"Brian, can you hear me?" a gentle male voice asked.  "If you can, just nod
your head."  I nodded, as I realized I hadn't heard my name in so long.  I
cried at hearing someone use my name.   

The same low voice continued on. "You are in the hospital, Brian."  He let
that sink in.  "We induced a coma for you so you could heal."  He paused
again.  "You were badly hurt when you arrived in the emergency room.  They
took several hours and days to put you back together, and then we had to
let you heal."   

I felt his hand on my arm.  It was so gentle and comforting.  Again, my
emotions overwhelmed me.  I felt secure at the moment, but I was so afraid
this was another one of Bill's cruel jokes.  I couldn't trust myself, or
the situation.  

"Do you understand?" he asked again.  I nodded.   

"I am going to take the bandages off your face now, so keep your eyes
closed until I tell you to."  I nodded.  And then I heard the scissors, and
felt a gentle tug and pull as he moved around my face.   

He gently pulled the patches off of my eyes.  "Okay, open your eyes and let
them slowly get adjusted to the lights.  I have them turned down pretty low
to make it easier for you."  I felt my eyes flutter.   

I got them open and slowly a face came into focus.  It was just inches from
my face.  A handsome face with a look of concern across it came into view. 
He looked back and forth between my eyes.  His were a sea blue-green
color.  His five o'clock shadow was distinct, as if it must be the end of
his shift.  He had a strong chin, but, when he smiled, I saw dimples.  I
got lost in his eyes.  There was such concern, depth, and a bit of laugh
lines.   

Again, tears leaked from my eyes.  "What's wrong, Brian?" he asked, and put
his hand on my shoulder again.   

I tried to talk but there was a lump of emotion in my throat.  I felt so
comforted, but I didn't know if I could trust that emotion or trust this
man.  I could only shake my head, and closed my eyes to squeeze the tears
out.   

"Are you okay?" he asked.  The sincerity in his voice was so touching, as
if he really cared.  I nodded again. "Okay, then I am going to go and let
you get some rest."   

I shook my head and managed to croak out, "No."   

"You want me to stay?" he asked, leaning in closer to me.  I smelled his
masculine scent, and that captivated me even more.   

I nodded, squeezed tears away, and tried to reach for him, but my hand was
still restrained.  He did something, and then my arm was free.  I reached
up and clutched his arm.  "Stay, please," I managed.   

He stood, pulled up a chair, and then sat down beside me, and took my hand
in his.  The warmth of it was so reassuring and so comforting.  I never
wanted him to let go.  I squeezed it as tightly as I could.   

"Close your eyes now and rest, Brian.  I'll stay here with you."  I closed
my eyes, but tears still rolled from them.  I felt so secure and
comfortable; something I hadn't felt in a long time.  I wanted to believe
this was real.  I didn't want it to be one of Bill's cruel jokes.  I
squeezed his hand again and slowly drifted off to sleep.   

I woke with his face in front of me again. He was saying, "Shhhh, it's
okay, it was just a dream."  He had my hands in both of his, and was
leaning in, talking to me softly.  "You cried out in your dream and began
thrashing about.  That is one of the reasons we had to restrain you; so
that you wouldn't hurt yourself."  He released one hand and patted me on
the shoulder.  "You are okay, and I am still here."   

"Name?" I managed to squeak out.   

"My name?" I nodded. "Dr. Williams, but Brian, please call me Sean."  He
squeezed my hand again.  I felt the strength there.  He looked to be in his
late twenties or early thirties.   

"Sean," I rasped, and smiled.  He smiled, and his dimples popped in.   

I felt exhausted and closed my eyes.  I felt him move, and  I clenched his
hand and opened my eyes.  "It's okay," he said.  "I am just moving so I can
sit here with you."  I nodded.   

He sat back down and scooted closer to me.  I drifted off moments later,
wondering if he had given me some kind of drug.  My eyes flew open and I
panicked.  "Drugs?" I asked. 

"Yes, Brian." He felt my hand clench and heard the heart monitor beat
faster. "But only the ones you need to heal you - for pain and something to
help you sleep.  There is nothing bad there.  I wouldn't harm you."  I
wanted to believe him.  I really did, but it wasn't easy after the last
year.  Every time I had, I ended up hearing someone laughing at me.   

I was just about asleep when I felt I was falling and jerked awake.  Sean
was there shushing me and patting my hand.  I closed my eyes and faded into
sleep.   

I woke up and he was still sitting there.  His tie was loosened and his
five o'clock shadow was heavier.  I wondered how long I had been asleep. 
"Pee," I said.   

He chuckled in such a friendly way.  "That is such a common reaction when
you first wake up.  You have a catheter in, so you are going all the time. 
Don't worry about it; just let it go."   

Through the course of the next couple of hours, he raised the bed, fed me
some soup and water, and talked with me.  He said that they had to run my
fingerprints to find out who I was.  I remembered having to be
fingerprinted for the accounting job.  That job seemed so long ago, as
well.   

He gently asked, "Who did this to you?" 

I shook my head.  One, I was afraid to tell him, in case this was some type
of trap by Bill.  "We were able to get the man's fingerprints that brought
you in, but we need you to confirm to the police that it was him before
they can press charges."   

He sighed. "You have been in a coma now for several weeks, so we need to
proceed with this in order to bring charges against him."   

I shook my head and fought back my emotions.  He could tell I was getting
upset.  "Okay, let's leave that for the moment."  I nodded.   

"There is something else," he paused.  "There were no pictures of you when
you first came in, so when we reconstructed your face, we didn't have too
many guidelines.  When you look in the mirror, you may see someone who
doesn't look like you.  Okay?" 

"Yes, do you have a mirror?" I asked, eager to see it now.   

He got up and picked up a hand held mirror, handed it to me, and I raised
it slowly, worried that I would see some hideous monster.  "Now there is
still some bruising and swelling that will go away in the next couple of
days.  But the over-all structure is set."   

I cautiously took the mirror and raised it.  The man in the mirror was more
handsome than me, although his face was puffy.  The jaw was stronger than
mine, with just a bit of a cleft.  The nose was not as broad, and nobler. 
And the eyebrows had a bit more arch to them.   

The eyes that looked back at me were mine.  They looked scared and
frightened.  I don't remember the last time I had looked this closely at my
face was.  Very rarely did I use a mirror to shave or brush teeth or
anything.  There wasn't one in the apartment.  At the gym, I was only able
to shave in the shower, and the less time I spent in the locker room the
better.   

I turned my face, yes, my face, side to side, trying to see the profile. 
There were still bruises around my eyes, which seemed to be sunken, with
dark circles around them.  I was afraid to smile.  I felt around with my
tongue inside my mouth.  All my teeth seemed to be intact.   

So I smiled tentatively.  "Yes, only one tooth had to be replaced.  You
were very lucky there," Sean said.   

I looked past the mirror to him.  He was smiling and looking at me. "Pretty
handsome guy, it looks like to me."  I blushed, and then tried to figure
out why.  Why would I blush because I received a compliment from this guy? 
 

Back to the mirror, I tried to reconcile that this is what I looked like
now.  I used a finger to poke the cleft in my chin.   

Sean laughed. "Yes, that was my idea," he smiled broadly, such a reassuring
smile.  "I am a sucker for a man with a cleft in his chin."  Did that mean
he was gay?  Was he rebuilding me for himself?  I put down the mirror and
withdrew, closing my eyes and pulling my arms up to hug myself.   

"I'm sorry, did I say something wrong?"  He put his hand on my shoulder,
and I shrugged it away.  "Really, it was to connect the skin, tissue, and
muscles that we ended up with the cleft."  He paused, and then added, "But
I do think it looks cute."   

He patted my leg. "You need your rest.  I'll talk to you when you wake up
again." He paused, and said,  "There is another doctor that I want you to
meet.  He will probably be around tomorrow."   

"No," I said quietly.   

"No, you don't want to meet the doctor?  But you need to.  I think he will
help you," he said earnestly.   

I shook my head; he was not understanding.  "Don't leave, please," I said,
once again fighting emotion.  I didn't want to be this thing he had built,
but I didn't want to be alone even more.   

He smiled with such concern written across his face.  He thought for a
moment, and then said, "Okay, I'll stay here with you."   

I raised my hand, wanting him to take it again, and he smiled and took it. 
Sitting down in the chair, he leaned closer to the bed.  "Okay, but you
have to rest now, and no more nightmares.  Doctor's orders."  He smiled
again.   

I squeezed his hand and he squeezed back.  Closing my eyes, I fought
emotions again.  I couldn't trust him.  Was he one of Bill's friends?  Had
Bill set him up to mold me into someone new? He was so caring and so
gentle, but I had learned not to trust that.  I didn't know.  I drifted off
to sleep, trying to fight the conflicting battle in my head.   

Next time I woke, Sean was slumped over, with his head on the bed,
sleeping.  What an ass I was...demanding that he give up his life because I
was being a scaredy cat.  I watched him sleeping: his eyeballs moving back
and forth behind his eyelids.  His eyelashes were long.   

With his face on its side and lying on his hand, his mouth was smooched up
and open a bit; he really needed a shave.  I wondered how long he had been
sitting with me.   

He looked so peaceful as he slept.  Again, I wondered if I could trust
him. I watched him for a while, and finally leaned forward and pushed a
wisp of hair back that had fallen across his brow.  That woke him.   

He opened his eyes and looked at me, smiled, then raised his head.  He
stood and stretched, pulling his shirt tails out of his pants.  I caught
myself looking at his crotch and wondering what he looked like.  Then I
closed my eyes and lowered my head.  He would think something was wrong
with me if he caught me looking at his crotch.   

"I have to pee," he said.  I leaned my head back and opened my mouth.  I
still had my eyes shut.  I didn't want him to see how much this hurt, him
expecting to use me.  I knew I shouldn't have trusted my feelings.   

"No!" he said after a moment.  He reached over and closed my mouth and
wiped away the tear that was rolling down my cheek.  "Who did this to you,
baby?"  He gently rubbed my face.  "I'm sorry, I mean Brian."   

I had just reacted from my training.   Bill was forever having me drink his
piss; in bars, restaurants, men's rooms, or in the apartment; along with
most of the men he had put me with in the afternoons.  I felt ashamed that
Sean should see that.  The emotions really warred in me then.  I had to
squeeze my eyes tightly shut to try and stop the flow of tears that
threatened to flow.   

He wiped my face again.  "Be right back," and I heard his steps as he
walked away.  There must be a toilet in my room, because I heard a door
open and swing shut, but not latch, because I heard his gush of piss and he
filled the toilet.   

The toilet flushed and he washed his hands before returning to the bed.  I
opened my eyes and looked at him.  He was wiping his eyes now.  "I can't
believe someone did this to you," he said, as he sat and took my hand. 
"Will you tell me who did this to you?"   

I shook my head.  "Is it because you don't trust me?  Or are you afraid he
will do something else to you if you tell?"  I hadn't thought about the
latter, but now it scared me.  I could only shake my head.   

"Okay, let's get you something to eat."  He used his cell phone to place a
call while he walked over and opened the blinds on the window.  Bright blue
sky and sunlight filled the window.  And it seemed like a breath of fresh
air filled my body as well.   

The food arrived and he fed me.  He took my bandages off and looked over my
face, chest, arms, and legs.  I was now lying there naked on the bed as he
inspected me.  I could see the hose running from my dick.  He saw me
looking and said, "Yes, I think we can get rid of that, now that you are
awake.  We are going to have to get you up and walking soon." 

He smiled again. "Your recovery is going to take some intense physical
therapy over the next several weeks until you are released.  You are going
to call me all kinds of names, but we will get through it."   

He brought a stainless steel bowl and some scissors over.  Then he cut one
tube on the hose and some water flowed out.  "This might hurt a bit as we
get rid of your little friend." He looked at me, smiling, to see if I got
his joke.  And it did hurt as he pulled the hose out, but I had had worse
with Bill when he had used sounds on me.   

I couldn't help but sigh when it was removed.  "Now for a bit of a sponge
bath."  He left and came back with a tub of soapy water and a sponge.  Then
he dipped the sponge into the water, squeezed it out, and, beginning at my
face, he professionally worked his way down my body, gently washing me.   

At my crotch, I noticed the difference for the first time; hair was growing
there.  I had not had hair there in more than a year, much to my
embarrassment.  He moved my cock this way and that, and it began to
swell.  

I knew better than to cover myself, but was none-the-less ashamed that I
was reacting to his touch.  He looked up at me and smiled. "Looks like this
is working just fine."  I blushed and heard his soft chuckle.  "Nothing to
be embarrassed about; it's a fine looking specimen.  And I have seen my
share of them."   

Then he blushed, "I mean as a doctor."  I laughed then.   

After washing me, he reapplied the bandages, where needed, and then helped
me into one of those wonderful hospital gowns that gaps in the back.  But
still, it was more than I had worn in a long time.  And it didn't have
holes in it, except where it was supposed to!   

He fed me, and turned on the TV.  I realized I hadn't seen TV in over a
year.  Tears again rolled down my cheeks.  He must have thought it was
something on the news, because he turned off the TV.  "I'll get a book to
read to you."   

Another doctor came in, who introduced himself as Doctor Crail.  He was the
hospital psychiatrist.  I cringed at the thought, but he spoke to me
gently, and with assurance.   

I spoke little the first time we met. He did most of the talking, telling
me how people who had been abused often felt they couldn't trust anyone
else, even through they wanted to.  And how feelings of inferiority, or
shame were common.  Not wanting to name the abuser was also common.   

He smiled and said, "You are a very handsome young man, with a long life
ahead of you.  I think that together we can work on healing your mind and
allowing you to get back to your life, so that you will want to move on and
explore your options."   

Over the next several weeks, Sean rarely left my side.  He helped me to the
bathroom or gave me a bedpan when I couldn't make it.  I was so used to not
having privacy that this didn't bother me, other than it was Sean who had
to deal with the bedpan if I used it.  I tried to always make it to the
bathroom.   

The first couple of times, he stayed with me to make sure I didn't fall
over or anything, but again I was used to no privacy.   

He worked with me on walking and exercises; exercises that caused a lot of
pain and, yes, I wanted to curse him, but still felt I would be punished if
I spoke out.  So I endured the pain as I had been taught.  Sometimes I
thought he was doing it to see if I could take it.  Other times I wondered
if he enjoyed inflicting this pain on me.   

Dr. Crail saw me daily as well.  I began to talk to him about what had
happened.  He listened and listened.  I felt like I was pouring out my soul
to him.  It came in gushes, almost like vomiting memories from my mind.  I
had to admit, after a while, that it felt good to be able to tell someone
this stuff.   

I hadn't told Sean very much at all;  I was still unsure about my feelings
for him.  I was falling head over heals for him, but didn't think he cared,
other than as a doctor, and still had concerns about the pain he was
causing.   

About the third week of physical therapy something happened.  He was
stretching my legs and making me do leg lifts.  He kept asking for just one
more. "Come on, you know you can do it!" when I snapped.   

"Look, you fucking asshole, I can't do another one, so fuck off!"  I said,
and instantly regretted it.  He moved towards me and I cringed, expecting
the punishment.   

Instead, he wrapped his arms around me and hugged me.  "Yes!  Yes!  Yes! 
Thank you.  That was wonderful."  I heard tears in his voice.  What the
fuck was wrong with this guy?  But it felt so good to be hugged. I hugged
back tighter and tighter.  He gripped tighter as well.   

We sat there rocking back and forth like a couple of idiots.  Finally, he
pushed me back and looked into my eyes.  "I have been waiting for you, the
real you, to come out and speak."  He smiled.  "I would have told that to
the guy who was doing it to me, weeks ago."   

He looked at me and, through the water in my eyes, I noticed his were just
as moist.  "You have been holding in so much and just enduring it.  But I
knew you could break through, and you did."  He took both hands to each
side of my face and pulled me closer.  He kissed me hard on the lips.  And
then he hugged me.  "You made me so happy!  I am so glad for you!"   

I didn't know what to think; I was floored, blown away, and helplessly in
love.  When he broke the kiss, I went back to hugging.  It was what I felt
most comfortable with.   

That moment changed many things.  I started calling him fuckhead, and
laughing.  He started tickling me when I said I was too tired to move.  We
became inseparable; he stayed in my room almost all the time.  He had a
rollaway brought into the room, and spent the nights there.   

He showered in my room, so I got to see him naked.  He caught me looking
him over a couple of times and smiled.  Nothing sexual happened between us,
but we grew closer together.  At times, like brothers, and others like life
long friends.   

Dr. Crail said we had made a great deal of headway.  I finally told him how
I felt about Sean.  He smiled and asked if I had told Sean how I felt.  I
said, "No."  He said that I had learned to be honest with myself about my
feelings, so I should be honest with others.   

That evening after dinner, I sat with Sean in the two chairs in our room. 
I told him the story of what had happened that night so long ago and what
had transpired as a result of it.  He was smart enough to let me just get
it out.   

"So I didn't think I would ever be able to love anyone, much less just
trust someone,"  I said, taking his hands and looking into his eyes.  "But
I have to tell you how I feel.  You may hate me afterwards and never want
to see me again.  But I am trying to be honest and straight forward now." 
I swallowed.  "I lost a lot of my life in the last year and I want to enjoy
my life like I never did before.  But I want to do it honestly and
openly."   

I took a deep breath. "Sean, I care for you.  In fact, I think I am in love
with you.  I don't know if you like men or not.  We haven't ever talked
about sex."  He started to say something, but I shook my head.  "Sean, I
don't know when or how, but the person I would like to have sex with is
you."   

He started to talk again; I shook my head and continued on.  "Before you
walk out this room in disgust at my confessions," meaning what had happened
to me and my feelings about him, "I just want to thank you for bringing me
back from that pit. Whether you were acting the part or not, you got me to
care for someone and about something again. And for that I thank you, more
than I could possibly put into words."   

I couldn't say any more.  I lowered my head and waited.  I tried to believe
that I would be strong enough to take it if he got up and left.   

I felt his hands on either side of my head; he was pulling my head up and
towards him.  I kept my eyes closed.  He put his lips to mine and gave me a
long tender kiss.  I opened my eyes and saw his closed, with tears running
down his cheeks.   

When he broke the kiss, he opened his eyes and looked into mine. "Look
asshole, if you haven't figured it out by now, I'll tell you now.  I love
you."  He smiled.   

We hugged and kissed and laughed and cried for the rest of the night.  The
next day I was to be released from the hospital.  Sean said, "Look Brian,
you have choices.  We can set you up with your own apartment until you get
a job, and then you can be on your own.  Or..." he paused.   

"Or..." I prompted.   

"Brian, I don't want this to sound like Bill.  You do have choices.  You
can walk out right now and be on your own.  The police are not looking for
you; I have checked on that.  I tried to explain things to your former
boss, but he won't take you back."   

He sighed, took a deep breath, and said, "What I am trying to say in my own
stupid way, is that I would love for you to move into my place.  You could
have your own room and do your own thing.  We can see where things go from
there, but I want it to be your choice.  You do have choices, plural."   

I smiled and said, "Where is this place, roomie?"   

He laughed and jumped into the air.  He took me to his apartment; he hadn't
been there much since I arrived at the hospital.  He said that he had
pretty much turned away all his patients while he was with me.  He admitted
that he had to get back to his practice.   

But he gave me a projects to keep me busy.  First, I was to be his
accountant and second, he was filing suit against Bill.  He knew who he
was, and knew that he was a high roller in the city.  So I would be working
with lawyers on that.   

Life became a rush of things then; getting back into life, learning about
everything that had happened in the last year.  I got an iPhone and loved
it.  It was a birthday present from Sean.   

The lawyers managed to nearly bankrupt Bill, leaving me with a huge
settlement and him lucky he wasn't in jail.  I laughed, and wondered what
choices he had now?   

With my skills in accounting and investing, we managed to increase the
settlement several fold, until we had enough to buy the accounting firm I
had been fired from.  When I called my boss into the President's office, he
didn't recognize me due to the surgery.  But I asked about a firing he had
done.  He finally recalled it.  I asked him if someone hadn't called to
clear the young man's name.  He hesitantly answered `yes'.   

When asked why he didn't offer the young man a position in his firm, the
guy answered, "I didn't think I could trust him.  I mean, what choice did I
have?"  He shrugged his shoulders.   

"Well, here is a choice for you.   You are either fired for unlawful
dismissal and lack of reinstatement of this young man, or you can be
brought up in a lawsuit, where I am sure that you will lose all of your
assets, as well as much of the control of your life."   

He swallowed, thought a moment, and then said, "Will I be able to get a
letter of recommendation?"   

Sean and I laughed so hard, that he just got up and left.   

Sean and I finally had sex.  It took a while for me to accept that it would
be wonderful between two people and not painful or shameful.  But once it
happened, we were like rabbits for days.  We tried every position we could
think of in every part of the apartment, including the balcony.   

Sean had laughed and said, as we headed out to the balcony, "What choice do
you have?" 

****

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Have fun

harry