Date: Fri, 01 Aug 2003 14:58:45 -0400
From: Noni Y. Mouse <nonimouse440@hotmail.com>
Subject: Kiss of Life Chapter 10

Hello everyone. Thanks for waiting so patiently for this next addition to
Kiss of Life. I made it a little bit longer because I got the feeling that I
should wait for a little bit with this chapter, and then once I got started,
a lot more flowed out than even I was expecting. I could have kept going,
but I thought it best to stop here for now, and then to let the next chapter
come to me in the natural process. Thanks for being so patient, and I hope
that you guys enjoy!! It's a pleasure writing for everyone- believe me! You
can send an email to NoniMouse440@hotmail.com to send in any comments. I
always appreciate feedback, or just a nice hello from readers. Thanks to all
again for making this a special triumph for me.

NM


Chapter 10:

Man is led by his ability to dream. His ability to see life as it is, and to
reach out for life as it could be. Great men are judged by how closely they
can bend the seemingly inflexible reality of what is, to what can be. The
tiny spark of creationism, the power to make something out of nothing, is
what defines man. It helped him to rise from the plains, to cross the
continents, and to establish his civilization in his image. But not all
dreams are noble, or progressive. Some dreams are nightmares- horrible and
surreal in quality, and a catalyst for great change and strife within and
with-out man. Sometimes so powerful they cause man to doubt the very fabric
of reality as it lays before him- disoriented, or even conscious and
actively wishing, merging the meanings of the words "safe" and "real."
But what's real isn't always what's safe, and what's safe can't always be
real, and sometimes nightmares are true, like Detective John Anderson was
finding out hiding naked, covered in bits of dirt, grass, and cum and sweat,
underneath his Volvo on the side of the road. He had rolled under there when
car lights had illuminated his bare behind; those lights turned out to
belong to one of the patrol cars of his town. It was probably someone from
his department- he thought to the time. It was after 2:30 in the morning-
only a few people were out patrolling that late- and he knew that this
stretch out route belonged to Officer Ronald DeVarias. Not that he knew
DeVarias personally, but he'd heard that DeVarias could be a good guy. He
hoped that it was true.
"Ok- whoever you are- come on out with your hands up- slowly. I've got my
gun out and I will use it if you try anything funny. Out- now!" DeVarias
called. He stood at 5'10", sturdy with 180lbs of muscle to further command
the authority of his booming, deep voice. His skin was olive complexioned,
smooth. He stood there, hard stance, gun out in front, flashlight pointed
towards the under carriage of the car. He saw a foot trying to make itself
invisible under there. What would someone be doing out in the middle of the
night, hiding underneath a car on the side of the road? His suspicions were
howling in his ears, and he became even tenser.
"I said come on out! If you don't I will be forced to use force to remove
you. This is your last warning," DeVarias called out. He clicked back the
safety on the gun, and took a step away from the car. He wanted to give
himself optimum room to discharge his weapon as effectively as possible.
John, recognizing that his situation required only one specific remedy,
sighed, and then called out to his coworker.
"Ron! Ron, put that gun down, and get that light outta my face, would you?
Sheesh," trying to sound as though he'd had every right in the world to be
naked and messy and hiding under his car, John waited to hear DeVarias'
response.
"De...Detective... Anderson? Is that you?" DeVarias called out. The gun
drooped in his hand, as his mind reeled from the confusion. Detective
Anderson? Under the car? Huh?
"Yes, Ron. Now as I said- put that gun away- and that flashlight too... I'm
in a bit of a jam, and I need your help. Do you have an extra jacket or
something in the car?" Ron felt even more confused, and as he put his weapon
away, and turned off his flashlight, all sorts of questions raced through
his mind. Like, for example- where were Detective Anderson's shoes? The one
foot he'd seen looked extremely naked, and he figured that in fact both feet
would be bare. But he'd save his questions for later- right now he had a
mission. A superior had given him what he supposed was an order, and he'd be
sure to follow. He went back to the car, checking to see if he did in fact
have an extra jacket in there. Once he'd discovered that he hadn't, he went
back to the car.
"Detective Anderson, sir. I don't have any extra clothing in my squad car.
If you want, I can go back down to the precinct and get you something?"
"No! Ron! Don't leave, ok! I... I need your help. I... Ron... I'm..." for a
minute, he wasn't sure it would come out. He didn't know DeVarias that
personally, and he was afraid to extend himself out to this man whom he had
to turn to the next day in the sunshine, and talk to face to face. But, no
one better than a boy in blue, he thought. They were all brothers in it
together, and if there was anything he realized he could do, it would be to
turn to a brother to ask for a favor.
"Ron... I'm... naked under here. I locked my clothes in the car... I was
reaching for my cell phone when you came up on me... I need your shirt- to
wrap around my waist- you undershirt I mean. I'm sorry to have to ask Ron...
I also need a ride- to my place. It's not too far away- if anyone asks, I'll
cover for you, ok? I'm sorry man, but I really need your help." He waited,
listening to DeVarias breathing in the interim.
"Ok... sir... hold on... I'll give you my... what ... no- I'm sorry. Hold
on- I'll slip you my shirt... and my shorts- I assure you, they're ok. I
didn't get on shift till a little while ago, and I showered once I got to
the station and put these on. They're still fresh. Just... give me a minute,
ok?" John almost cried in relief. Once he got out of this kind of a
situation, he'd kiss DeVarias on the lips, the ass, the nuts- wherever he
needed kissing. He felt so relieved. He heard DeVarias unzipping, and
unbuckling his pants, and curiosity got the best of him. He wasn't trying to
be a perv, but he couldn't resist taking a peek. DeVarias was standing on
the passenger side of the car, and John slipped over a bit so that he could
see a little better. All he could get a view of, was of DeVarias' nicely
shaped calves, and his pants sliding down and bunching around his ankles.
DeVarias reached down, and tugged on each pant leg to pull it off over his
shoes. He straightened up, and stood there in the warm air. He hadn't been
aware that John's head was now peeking out from under the car, staring right
up into his crotch, mesmerized by the bulge that was there. It seemed as
though DeVarias were sporting half wood. Must be something having to do with
being naked and outdoors- very liberating, and sexually exciting, John
thought, remembering his own not so long ago experience.
DeVarias' hands hooked into the waistband of his boxer shorts, and he slid
the white cotton down his muscled thighs, bending over slightly as he was
doing it, but not too much. As he pulled his left leg out of the hole, he
stumbled, and turned sideways a bit, flashing John a sight of not only his
low dangling, plump testicles, slightly shiny and covered in black fur, but
also, of the man's taint and asshole, also lined with a small dusting of
black hair. John bit back the groan in his mouth, and pulled himself back
under the car. When the time came to put those shorts on, he didn't want to
stand up sporting wood. It'd be hard enough to not pop wood thinking about
John's balls having been bunched up in the same spot where his would be.
John concentrated to clear his mind- of DeVarias, of Mike, of work, of
everything. He meditated, a practice that had sustained him through his life
and career so far. He began by falling into what he called his first circle,
the calm. After that was his second circle, the path. One had to be calm in
order to find the path. After traveling down his path, he'd come to his
third circle, the light. The light would lead him to his fourth circle, the
warm. All this meditating would eventually lead him thru his fifth circle,
the deep, his sixth circle, the verge, and his seventh and last circle,
serene peace. He used his meditation to get over a lot of things that had
happened in his life- the violent death of his mother at his father's hands
when he was 9, living with his religiously conservative and inattentive
grandparents until they both perished in a fire when he was 15, and then
being shuttled from relative to relative until he was finally 18. At that
point, he'd joined the local ROTC, gone though his training, and come out
the other end, motivated to become a policeman. To him, it was the ultimate
statement of accountability. It was the pinnacle of his arrival- he'd made
it, whole, scarred, but functional, and alive. And then there'd been
Tiffany, his first... his first everything. He'd fallen deeply in love with
her, only to discover 5 years into their relationship that she wasn't the
one. Which didn't mean that he didn't love her. He just... something had
changed. He'd been through a lot during his first 5 years on the force, and
he felt different inside, if not out. He'd come home from work, a little
worn out from his day, and he'd look at Tiffany, and realize that she didn't
perk him up- she wasn't what he wanted to come home to... she didn't make
him feel alive, or that it was all worth it. Tiffany was too self
sufficient- he felt as though she didn't need him. He loved her, dearly, but
he realized that he'd never really been in-love with her. He'd also been
carrying around a lot of hurt and baggage that he'd never really dealt with-
and so, one day, long after he let go of Tiffany, coming into the
locker-room at the station, he'd found one of his fellow officers sitting
facing the window, on the floor, cross legged with his eyes closed and his
hands placed on the caps of his knees. He wanted to ask him what he was
doing- sitting there, so serene looking, seemingly at peace. Not necessarily
vulnerable- but at peace- balanced. In an instant, Anderson instantly wanted
that peace- longed for that security, and instead of leaving, as his shift
was over, he sat there and waited. The cop sat there, and waited and waited,
never once growing anxious or fidgeting. He sat there with patience, for 40
minutes, until his fellow officer looked up, his dark skin seemingly glowing
with life, and the small smile that had played over his lips extended, and
he spoke.
"You have the basics. What it takes, John, to get this far, is patience, my
friend. You'll come with me to the next class, right?" And John had, going
with his fellow officer, a young 27-year-old black man by the name of
Theodore C. Graham, also called Ted, Theo, but never Teddie... by anyone but
John, and that was in private. It was also his first homosexual experience.
At first, John wasn't sure what to do in bed- he felt awkward and very
unsexy. He figured himself as very inexperienced- only having slept with one
woman, and during the last year of their relationship, that had been few and
few in between. Ted took control, taking trembling hands and guiding them
lovingly and gently. Tender Ted- at 5'7", and 140lbs, and a cocoa
complexion, no one could say that Ted exuded authority. But in the bedroom,
Ted was undoubtedly the master, but not dominating- more explorative. As
John's confidence grew, so did his attachment to Ted. They were together for
2 years, which made Ted's death that much harder to bear- not only had he
lost a lover and a partner, but also a damned good friend. John was sure
that he'd loved Ted- that he'd been in love with Ted. The pain of losing him
was as though his soul were being torn in two. He cried, day and night, for
hours on end. He couldn't sleep, and working had lost its appeal and mission
for him. He grew sullen and sagged with his own sorrow. And when the
grieving got to be too much, and he'd sat there that day, gun in hand, tears
streaming down a stubbly, haggard face, a voice had spoken very clearly in
his head, "patience my friend," and he broke out into a fresh batch of sobs.
The crying this time, though, felt like it was burning him up from the
inside- and when he was done, he felt clean- and empty. And he took himself
up, went to the window, and meditated as he'd done so many times before. Yet
this time he filled himself with calmness, instead of calming the turbulence
within him. When he stepped up to death's door that day, he'd been prepared
to cross over, step into a void of absence where there was no anything for
him to experience, or to hurt him. Yet, when he stepped away from death's
door, he was a different man- full of salvation and serenity. And he took
this with him wherever he went.
Hence, as John lay there under the car meditating, he focused himself, and
his arousal went away. Also gone were his embarrassment and his nervousness-
he'd had a mission to undergo, and in his third circle of meditation, the
light, he'd programmed his mind to attack that task flat out, and that's
what he'd do. He stepped out from under the car, safely flaccid and under
control, and stepped into DeVarias' shorts. DeVarias had in the meantime,
buttoned back up his pants, zipped them, taken off his shirt, taken off his
undershirt, and was now re-buttoning his shirt and tucking it back into his
pants. There was silence between the two men as they each dressed. DeVarias'
had questions flying back and forth thru his mind- but he was afraid to open
his mouth to ask them. He stood there, building his courage, and as he
finally turned towards Anderson to ask, Anderson spoke.
"I know, Ron, that I'm in a very compromised position. The truth is, I took
a couple of liberties that I shouldn't have, and got myself into this
situation. The truth also is that I'm very glad and fortunate that you came
along- there's no one better to trust than a brother, and brother, am I ever
so thankful for your help. Know this- we're here for each other, but if
there's anything you need that's above and beyond, you come to me first, you
got that? You let me know first, and I will do everything in my power, and a
little beyond, to help you. You got that, Ron?" He had taken Ron by the
shoulder, and was looking deeply into his eyes. DeVarias sensed that the
naked man who had called out to him from under the car, and this man
standing here talking to him, were not the same person. This person was more
confident- even in a compromised situation, he stood with strength and
character. DeVarias nodded firmly, and thanked his superior.
"Thank you very much sir. Believe me when I say that this is between you and
I. You don't even have to ask." DeVarias could hear his mother's voice in
the background, leaving to him lessons of being responsible, being an adult-
being a good person in general.
"You never kick a man when he's down, son. Even when he's your enemy son,
because otherwise you become just like him, and you lose yourself, and then
you lose the battle. Also son, a good person knows how to be a confidant.
Never betray someone's trust unless they're planning to hurt himself or
herself or someone else. You got me? Good. Now go clean that dirty ass pig
sty you call a room! If you wanna breed flies and shit, you'd better get a
damned job and go live out in that nasty girl Sherry's house. Don't give me
that look! That tramp is FILTHY! You seent, her, right? Wearing all that
damned make-up like she's the poster child for Revlon. She ain't no damned
model! If I ever catch you with your dick within ten feet of that heifer,
I'm gonna cut it off my damned self! Don't look at me like that and roll
your eyes! Shit- I got a college degree. I EARNED my right to talk like
this!" DeVarias cracked a small smile at the thought of his mother, still
alive, in control and as feisty as ever. The, so as to not to make Anderson
think that the smile had something to do with him, DeVarias quickly
explained.
"Just something my mother said to me a long time ago, sir." John smiled
himself.
"Never told you there'd be days like this, huh?" At that, DeVarias burst out
laughing.
"No sir, not quite!" The two men walked towards the squad car, chatting,
getting to know one another. They rode to John's apartment in an amicable
silence. Once they got there, John knocked on his neighbor's door- even
though the man was asleep, John knew that he wouldn't mind the mid-twilight
interruption. The man whom John was in the process of waking up, was the
owner of the building, not to mention his last living relative on the
planet. John and his Uncle Tommy shared a special relationship- in fact, he
was the first person John confided to when Ted and he began their
relationship. At first, his uncle was supportive, yet a bit distant- he kept
repeating that he didn't want to hear details. After 3 months of seeing John
glow from an internal light of love and fulfillment, he cornered John as he
was about to enter his apartment, and eyed him up and down.
"Well damn, looks like I better get me summa what you got, cause it looks
like cock is the cure for all! I got me some constipation and a lil' twinge
in my left leg every time I hafta walk down stairs. This feller, he have a
brother?" John stared at his uncle, open-mouthed and in shock, not sure
whether the man was unexpectedly and uncharacteristically attacking him, or
whether the man was making a joke. His uncle had a mischievous gleam in his
eye, which John caught onto, and then burst into braying laughter, bent over
double and trying to hold himself up. Uncle Tommy chuckled a few times, and
patted his nephew on the back. His sister had done good- it was a shame he
wasn't in the country to help her when she'd needed help... his heart still
ached for the baby-faced blond that had attached herself to his soul from
the day she could walk. He had loved his sister deeply- saw himself as her
big brother, protector and best friend, and he was so angry with himself for
not having been there when she'd been murdered, that he left the country
again right after her funeral, unable to bear the guilt of looking into her
son's eyes and acknowledging his failure. He'd come back 10 years later, in
time to make a good deal to buy the apartment complex he now lived in with
the rest of the money left to him from his parents' death. He instantly
sought out a connection with his nephew, facing his worst inner demons, and
triumphing in a beautiful relationship with the boy. John was like the son
he'd left behind in Vietnam... He never even knew the boy's name... He had a
picture- of the boy and the boy's mother... they'd disappeared one day,
their village decimated as though they'd never even really existed. He'd
searched for days, against his Lieutenant's orders... but to no avail...
which was also when he decided that to return to America, not a hero, but a
villain, after having lost his... his own family... he'd wanted that family
so badly... he couldn't do it. So he'd gone to the Bahamas- got involved in
some business deals that went down there, and ended up operating a security
firm that handled most of the casino business in Nassau. It was a good job-
kept him busy so that he didn't have too much time to sit and think... but
there were those lonely evenings, sitting on the beach, sipping authentic
Island rum mixed with coke, remembering her smile... remembering their
son... with his blue eyes...
John and his uncle had stood in the hallway that day, and hugged one another
after the laughter had subsided- they really hugged. It was the first time
that Tommy actually cried in front of John, and it was the first time that
John confessed to anyone what he really felt in his heart for Ted.
"I love him Uncle Tommy. I really think I love him." Uncle Tommy smiled to
himself.
"Well you'd better bring him over for dinner then. If he can survive a night
of my cooking, then I'll know he's tough enough for my favorite boy." And
that was how it was- Ted was introduced to Tommy, and the two of them hit it
off fantastically. Tommy looked at the two of them, standing in the kitchen,
washing dishes side by side- tall John, and short Ted, and thought that he
couldn't see it- John being bent over and stuffed with Ted's cock. He turned
the image around in his head, and that seemed to make more sense to him. The
couple looked odd- he wasn't sure at first what to really think about Ted
being black. He'd served with black guys in the army- hung around a few of
them afterwards, and of course on the Island, he'd had to interact with tons
of black people. But he'd never really thought of his John and Ted together
in... well, a relationship, he guessed. But the two seemed happy enough- and
they worked well with each other. Tommy made a mental note to get to know
Ted better- invite him over for a game, or something when John wasn't
around- to take the initiative to seriously get the scoop on  "John's
feller." And when Ted had died, Tommy tried his best to comfort his nephew.
He'd even taken up to meditating with John sometimes, maybe not as
effectively, but he felt that even his physical presence near John helped
him through the hard times- and he was right.
John stood in the hallway, DeVarias outside in the car waiting. Uncle Tommy
took a lot longer to move around these days- being a bit older. But the man
was still a firecracker.
"If you don't have a pair of tits the size of my fucking head, I'm gonna put
u on your knees, turn around, and take a shit in your Godless mouth," John
heard coming from behind his Uncle's door. The man must have fallen asleep
on the couch... again. More and more these days, John worried about his
Uncle. If he didn't take special care of himself... the door opened.
"Hi Uncle Tommy... sorry to get you up so late, but I had an emergency, and
I need the spare key to my apartment." Uncle Tommy stood there, robe open,
hair flayed out in multiple directions, and a drool streak running from the
left side of his face, all the way to his ear. He wasn't a fat man- Tommy
had always had a lean build, and the years of rum and coke hadn't given him
the paunch that older men seem to inherit. Beneath the robe, Uncle Tommy was
dressed in a pair of wrinkled blue and white striped oversize cotton boxers,
with the fly partially open so that one could glance by and see his thighs,
and, a white tee shirt. Tommy broke into a smile- no matter what time of
day, no matter the situation, seeing his nephew always brightened the
moment.
"Hey Johnnie-boy! It's good to see you! But do you know what mutherfucking
time it is?! I oughta make you bend down and lick my fucking hairy old-man
sac! Oh shit- you'd probably like that too much anyway, wouldn't ya! Ha ha,
kid, I'm just messing. What's up with your clothes, boy? You streakin' the
neighborhood now? OH! You're probably comin' form some young stud's house,
huh? At least one of us is getting' lucky, eh! I've got my eye on this lady
down at the grocery store- her name is Julie. She keeps slipping me the eye-
I know she wants it, kid; I still got it, eh! They can feel my mule-dick
coming from a mile away, and as shy as they are, they all come runnin!
Speaking of, so when're you going to settle down? Bring home a nice young
feller to take care of me and cook for me, eh? I'm not as young as I used to
be- and you need some kids around this place, damnit! It's too quiet! So
when're u going to bring home somebody for me to harass, Johnnie-boy! I
don't have for fucking forever, u know!" John burst out laughing, filling
the hallway space with his deep voice. He hugged his uncle tightly, and let
go. Uncle Tommy reached out to the desk on his left, and pulled back a key
with a rainbow key-chain on it. In fact, all of Uncle Tommy's key-chains
were either rainbows, or gay themed. He had a huge rainbow flag hung on the
wall above his couch- it looked entirely out of place and uncomfortable
there- but the old man insisted that that was the way it should be- in plain
sight of anyone who happened to walk by and look in, or come over, and
standing out so loudly that it could not be ignored. He was proud of his
nephew, and had even joined P-FLAG. Though he didn't attend the meetings as
often as he knew he could, he knew that it was the thought that counted
where his nephew was concerned.
John looked at the keys in his hand, and smiled. He was so fortunate to have
his Uncle Tommy. He kissed the man on the forehead, ever so gently, and
stood back from him.
"Leave the door open, cause I'm gonna be right back, Uncle Tommy. I need to
grab my spare car keys from my place, and I'm gonna drop these back off,
ok?" John ran up the hallway to his own apartment, and unlocked the door. He
didn't even go inside all the way- just reached in the door, and grabbed the
spare car keys from the dish on the table to his left. He pulled the door
closed, and returned to his Uncle Tommy's apartment. The man had shuffled
back to the couch, and was in the midst of falling back asleep.
"Thanks Uncle Tommy- I appreciate it. I owe you- in fact, I just may bring
home that young stud you were talking about to take care of you and cook for
you. I don't know if he can cook yet, but once I find out, I'll let you
know. Besides, if I turn out to be tough enough to survive his cooking, then
I know that you will be too!" Tommy smiled sleepily from the couch, and
drifted back off to sleep.
"And GO GET IN YOUR BED!" Uncle Tommy roused himself, and rose, turned off
the television, gave his nephew a dirty look, and grumbled all the way to
the back into his bedroom. John smiled, dropped his spare key back onto the
table, and made sure the door was locked before he closed it. He ran back
out of the building, to the waiting car, which turned around and took him
back to his black Volvo, still locked and by the side of the road. Officer
DeVarias waited to make sure that John could get into his car, and then with
a farewell wave, took off to continue the rest of his patrol. John sighed
with relief, his mission accomplished, and as he was about to step back into
his car, his foot nudged something in the grass. He bent down to take a
closer look... his cell phone! He'd forgotten all about it! But now he had
his cell phone, his car, and his clothes- and he made his way back to his
apartment, headed for some hot tea and a much-needed shower.
On the other side of town, Michael sat up on his couch, facing the window
where he'd nearly met his end, deep in thought and drinking a cup of tea.
He'd tried to sleep, but after an hour of useless tossing and turning, he
decided that staying up long enough to catch the sunrise would do him some
spiritual justice. He was thinking about the fact that he knew nothing about
the wonderful detective who'd come into his life most recently, and trying
to decide what he wanted to know most. Was it why he'd become a police
officer? Was it whether or not he'd ever been in a relationship before? Was
it even what was the guy's birthday? There was a lot of basic ground to
cover. But at the rear of it all, he felt an excitement that he'd felt only
once before- had allowed it to fool him into thinking that life would be ok,
even for someone as afflicted as he. He'd been 24, desperately lonely, and
there had been Andrew. Andrew, 27, funny, warm, handsome... a great kisser.
He'd met Andrew at a poetry reading at the local café in the town that he'd
been in at that time. Andrew was Mexican, and had been adopted by a family
in the United States form an orphanage in Mexico. He always said that he was
lucky to have escaped such a fate- poor and orphaned. His family, not
altogether wealthy, did have enough to send Andrew to college, where he'd
gotten a degree in Business Administration, and at 27, headed up a
management team at his company. Andrew was passionate, well-spoken...
burning hot with aspirations and 3 and 4 and 10-year plans. He seemed so
progressive- and Mike made the mistake of wanting to touch him- wanting to
hold onto that, and allowed Andrew to get close when he showed interest.
Mike let himself be kissed, caressed, and kissed back, caressed back. And
finally after their 4th date, when Andrew's caressing became a little more
insistent, Mike geared himself up, and pulled away from Andrew, and looked
him in the eyes.
"Andrew... I like you, I really do. But before we go any further, there's
something I need to tell you...." And he told him... and Andrew looked
confused for a moment, and then disgusted.
"You mean to tell me that you're not clean?" That stung- yes, yes he was
dirty. Dirty with a stain that couldn't get washed away. Mike cried then,
openly sobbing in front of Andrew, who looked increasingly uncomfortable.
"Look man, don't cry or nothing. I mean, I appreciate you telling me and
all... but this isn't something I want to deal with, ok man? Look- thanks
for the good time- I had fun... but I gotta go... it's probably not a good
idea to call me. I won't tell anyone though, I mean- it's cool. Don't worry
about that. Look, I gotta go now. I'll see you around, ok?" Mike never
forgot the look of disgust that crossed Andrew's face. It stayed with him,
shutting him down even further than anything he'd experienced before. It
hurt- he hadn't know what he'd expected, really. He resolved himself then to
being alone- maybe getting a preferred member's card at Duracell, or maybe
Energizer... since it seemed like those would be the only things keeping him
up all night long. But when he thought he was dead to the world, along came
this tall, dark handsome prince who kissed him- gave him a breath of life,
of hope. Was he deserving? He didn't know. Goodness knows he'd had a couple
of run ins where he hadn't told his partner... but they were one night
stands, and he'd been 20 then... not entirely responsible then... but could
there be redemption for that? For putting someone else at risk? This was
where his guilt lay- burning like a cinder in his gut. What if something had
happened? He sighed- the pressure was almost too much to handle. Could he...
should he pay the rest of his life in a penance of solitude? Could he...
should he confess this to John? That he hadn't always been careful- that he
could have potentially hurt others with the way he'd been hurt himself?
People who did that didn't deserve to be happy. They didn't deserve to have
a Prince Charming come along to rescue them. But here he was, in fate's
arms, moving towards something that he wasn't sure what... like moving out
of darkness and into a sunny, clear morning. He felt that his life was at a
twilight- though it didn't necessarily have to be a twilight before a
sunset. Maybe one day, he could be sitting here on this couch, John sitting
behind him, naked... and his heavy, magnificent balls cuddled up to the
crack of Mike's ass. Mike sighed- feeling those balls strapped up tight
behind him, warm and round and resilient... he started to imagine what the
detective would look like naked- furry? Smooth? Undoubtedly delicious.
Mike sighed. If it was the beginning of a new day, then Mike realized that
the old saying was indeed true, "it's always darkest before the dawn."