Date: Mon, 14 Jul 2003 03:41:45 -0400
From: Noni Y. Mouse <nonimouse440@hotmail.com>
Subject: Kiss of Life Chapter 7

Thanks guys- for ALL of your wonderful emails. It's such a pleasure to get
feedback, and to know that people out there are enjoying what's being put
down in this story. So again, thanks for sticking with me, and as always,
there's more to come! Please feel free to send me some feedback
NoniMouse440@hotmail.com , and let me know what you think of how it's going.
This work is MY creative property, so no one had better copy it. Go get your
own! If you're not allowed to view this kind of material in your state, I
think that you should try to change the legislation. Thanks much-
                                       NM



Chapter 7:


	The dog sat up, whining. It had been too long since he had seen his master.
He could still remember the way he smelled, and the sound of his voice, but
he still longed to place his head in his master's lap, and receive scratches
and pats and rubs and most importantly, love. He got up, roamed around in a
circle, and plopped back down onto his pillow. He supposed he was being
silly- he knew his master would never abandon him. Bad things never happened
to good dogs, right? He knew he was right, and so was placated. Until the
thought raced through his mind- what is he wasn't a good dog? He perked up,
whining again. What if his master thought he was a bad dog, and had chosen
to leave him in the care of this, albeit nice, stranger? What if he never
got to smell his master again? Be near him? Be loved by him?
The terror rose in the dog's chest, and he pelted up off of his pillow and
ran from room to room, barking and whining, looking for... anything, he
didn't know what. Something that would make him feel safe again... but there
was nothing- he found stale pizza and overflowing garbage in the kitchen, a
smelly dank bathroom infested with mold, a living room in a complete
disarray of pungent boxer shorts, tee shirts, and smelly socks, and then
three rooms- two of which had closed doors. The smells that were wafting
under those doors made the poor dog want to paw off his own nose, they were
so horrible. He backed up into the third room, whining, trying to rid his
brain of the noxious toxicity of the other rooms. He backed into a world of
bright warm light, which contrasted greatly with the dingy gray-black he'd
just been running through. Not that he could necessarily SEE the color of
the light... however, he heard a voice calling out his name- a voice that
was kind, and like the light, warm, and it calmed him; he stopped whining.
He turned to find the stranger standing there- the same stranger who'd taken
him away. He was much nicer than the other two strangers- at least this one
didn't bark at him and laugh and make him feel frightened.
The stranger kept speaking in his calming voice, and the dog wished so badly
he could understand what the stranger was saying. The stranger then got up,
and moved towards the dog and squatted near him.
"It's ok Jeff- that was your dad on the line. He said he's out and on his
way to come and get you. Isn't that great! I know you must miss him, huh?
Well don't worry he'll be here soon. If you wanna stay in here till he comes
that's cool too... wait... what am I saying? Giving the dog a choice-
sheeeesh!" Chris stood up and stretched his 5'10" tall frame, and ran a hand
through his hair. He looked at the dog, still sitting on his haunches and
looking up at his questioningly.
"Yeah, you're gonna wanna stay in here all right. I'm sorry about Phil and
Kevin. They're slobs, I know," he apologized as he went out to grab the
dog's pillow. As he was entering the hallway, he saw lights shine into the
interior of the living room. Must be Mike coming to pick up Jeff. He had
called from the car- Chris was instantly curious, wondering whose car it was
that Mike was calling from. He remembered the moment in the hospital- the
touch, the tear... the magic. It was all too damned Disney to be real... but
then again... it felt so good... but... Mike was a guy, and so was he... and
as much as something in him wanted to entertain those thoughts, he just
didn't know how two guys would ever get things going. And besides- the world
the way it was... this wasn't a fairy tale- things wouldn't end up happily
ever after, no matter how beautiful he wanted it to be in his mind.
	He changed his path, from heading into the living room to get the dog's
pillow, to heading to the front door. Stepping over smelly boxer shorts and
socks, he thought all kinds of dark thoughts about his roommate's- if they
hadn't been friends from since kindergarten, he'd have killed them all by
now- several times over. Sighing, he unlocked his door, and threw it open.
He was expecting to see Mike- actually, he was looking forward to it for
some reason. Instead, he was greeted by a massive chest, wrapped in a tight
blue tee shirt and swathed in a black leather jacket. Chris' eyes traveled
on upwards until they found the handsome face- almost too handsome for words
to describe. His head was framed by the porch light, a halo of soft white
light seemingly streaking out from behind his brown hair. Chris gasped, and
stepped back, unsure of who was standing at his doorstep. But then the
figure moved a hand out, and stood there, expecting a handshake and opened
his mouth to speak.
"Hi. You must be Chris. I'm Detective Anderson. We spoke on the phone the
other day about the case with Michael Dana?" Chris nodded, and reached out
to shake the massive hand being offered to him. When he took it, he could
feel the warmth of this man- the blood pumping through the man's veins are
his hand swallowed Chris' in its grip. Come to think of it, Chris DID
remember the guy's voice. It was so deep and gentle and rhythmic. Chris
remembered, blushing instantly, that he'd subconsciously pulled a dripping
cock out of his jeans, and began to jack it while talking to the detective
on the phone.
"How can I help you, Detective Anderson? Is Mike ok?" Chris asked anxiously.
He searched the Detective's face for a sign that something was wrong, and
finding none, he relaxed a bit. The detective smiled.
"Michael is doing fine. He's in the car right now. I'm giving him a ride
home from the hospital. But he kept saying that he wouldn't set foot inside
his apartment without his pal, which I heard from a little birdy, is hiding
in this exact location." Chris laughed, a mixture of emotions running
through him. He hadn't exactly thought that it was normal for detectives to
escort victims to and from the hospital... maybe this guy was just being
nice and friendly... but HOW friendly, Chris wanted to know. He turned, and
called for Jeff, who had smelled traces of his master's scent float through
the open door, and had made a beeline for man standing in the leather jacket
underneath the porch light. As Jeff got closer to him, the smell of his
master got stronger, and he got more and more excited. He barked over and
over, and jumped up and down, brushing past Chris, and running around in a
circle around Anderson. Anderson and Chris laughed, and a voice shouted out
in the distance. The dog stopped moving, his nose and ears poised, his hind
quarters quivering. The shouts grew louder, and the dog took off as a black
streak into the darkness. Whoops and barks of joy filled the neighborhood as
master and dog reunited. Chris smiled and turned back to Detective Anderson,
who was staring at him in a strange way. A puzzled look crossed Chris' face,
and before he could even open his mouth to question the detective, the
detective spoke first.
"I can see it in your face. You love him too," Anderson said quietly. Chris,
startled, looked as though he'd been slapped. How in the hell had...
"What...what are you talking about?" Chris stammered. Anderson looked
unphased, and stared back at Chris unblinkingly.
"It's on your face. It was all over your face when you opened this door,
expecting him, but getting me. I'm sorry Chris, but I got to him first. You
weren't going to act on it anyway. If you were, you'd have done it by now.
But I can tell that you feel just how special he really is," Anderson
paused. Chris stared at the man with wide eyed shock. How could...
"I've never been in this kind of a situation before, Chris. I want him so
fucking bad... but I don't want him to feel like I stole him away from
anything else. Please... tell him how you feel. I know he still thinks about
you. I don't know what you two had going on- how long you've been talking to
each other... but ..." Anderson stopped. A sliver of terror ran through his
frame- what IF Michael chose Chris? He'd lose him... But he had to take that
chance- to make it true.
"Chris, you have to tell him how you feel. You two have to talk out whatever
past you had, and get it in the clear. I want him, but I can't move on if
your history is in the way..." Chris broke in laughing so hard, he doubled
over on the porch and tears came streaming out of his eyes. Anderson stood
there, first looking confused, and then a little tense; he didn't like to be
laughed at.
"I'm sorry Detective Anderson! I... there IS no history per se between Mike
and I. He ordered a pizza that night, and I came by in time to make sure he
got the help he needed. I visited him once in the hospital, and took his
dog... I mean, honestly- that's the full story. Maybe for a second,
Detective Anderson, there was something. I can't explain it- touching him...
it was like magic... everything slowed down, the lights seemed to get
warmer- it felt as thought it were just me and him... I don't know what it
is about him, but for that one minute, he made me feel SO full of... life.
But I'm not the one, Detective Anderson. He needs something that I can't
give to him... I don't know what that is... but I could sense that I didn't
have it... but you might. Just... please... don't hurt him..." Chris looked
into Anderson's eyes, and stared, unselfconsciously into its depths. He
meant what he'd said, and hoped that Anderson meant what HE said. Their
conversation ended that way as Mike came running up with a very happy and
excited Jeff following at his side.
"Chris!!" Mike exhaled in a whoosh of pent up joy and ease, "thanks SO much
for taking care of him for me! Chris... he's my life..." Mike's eyes began
to well up with tears. He smiled through those tears, and reached for Chris
with his one good arm, and wrapped him up in a tight, one-armed hug. The
relief he felt rolled out of him and settled around Chris' shoulder, which
instantly eased in relaxation. The world- it was fading away, and he could
hear a strange rhythmic thumping that grew louder in his ears as the world
faded away. He could hear breathing, he knew, but outside of that- the
thumping... And then Mike let go and stepped back. He was still smiling, but
that smile quickly disappeared and was followed by a look of concern as he
stared into Chris' face.
"Are you ok Chris?" Anderson asked from behind Mike. He had observed Chris'
face the entire time- saw Chris' eyes close in rapture as Mike's arm wrapped
around him, and then the startled draining of the color from his face and
the swoon. Chris looked up, smiled weakly, and nodded. He looked down at
Jeff, and gave the dog a good rub between the ears.
"I'm just gonna miss this tyke, is all," he mumbled. And with that he
straightened up. The color had definitely returned to his face, and he
smiled at them all.
"Well how about this, Chris," Mike began, "how about you keep his pillow,
and anytime u want an overnight companion, just give me a call?" Chris
grinned at that, and struck out his hand.
"It's a deal, man! Anytime you need a dog-sitter, you just give me a call,
ok? I'll be glad to do it," Chris laughed. They all stood there a moment
longer, lost in each of their respective thoughts. It was Anderson who made
the first move.
"Michael... I think we should get home now. It's getting late, sweetheart."
He stopped, as did they all. Chris couldn't help the twinge of jealousy that
tweaked at his heartstrings as he looked up at the two. Mike looked like a
startled dear caught in headlights. Joe sat there, licking himself,
oblivious to everything that was going on. He was just happy to have his
master back. And Anderson was startled himself- calling Mike sweetheart. But
Mike was the one that made the next move. He straightened up, took a hold of
Jeff's collar, and made off towards the car. He turned back around once to
wave and smile at Chris, and then busied himself with getting Jeff packed
in. Mike turned to Chris, and struck out his hand. Chris took it, and shook
firmly. The two men had reached a truce. No more needed to be said.
Anderson turned on his heel, and walked back towards the car, a lot lighter
in the heart. He felt as though his first major obstacle with Michael had
been conquered. Now he just had to be flexible enough to deal with whatever
else came along. But as he saw Michael fussing with the dog, trying to coax
him into the car by all means of trickery and persuasion, he got a
tightening feeling in his chest. And when Mike looked up, and smiled and
shrugged his one good shoulder as if to say "whattadog," Anderson felt as
though his heart would swell and explode with... not love... not yet... he
forced it away. He found the scene... extremely pleasing... full of
promise... yes... love... it was too early for love. As Mike finally bent
over and yanked the dog into the backseat of the car, Anderson got a good
view of Mike's ass stretching out the jeans. Before he even knew what he was
doing, he found himself standing behind Mike, breathing hard, looking down.
His hand, like the rest of his body, moved with a mind of its own, and
reached out to caress Mike's ass. Mike shot up, surprised by the touch more
than where the touch was centered. He looked over his shoulder at John's
face, and saw a look of such lustful hunger that he literally quivered. He
turned around to face John, John's hand slipped from Mike's behind to Mike's
crotch, and firmly grasping the rod that had been presented there. His hand
closed around it, and the moan that ascended from his throat vibrated with
hunger. He pressed himself into Mike, and pushed them both against the car.
His head bent, lips parted, and flesh met flesh in an explosion of
gratifying sweet exchanges of essence. A barking Jeff brought them back to
reality with a groan. Anderson smiled. It was kind of comforting, this
scene. He pulled himself reluctantly away from Mike, and stepped back to
open the passenger door. Mike smiled, and got in, and after he'd closed the
door, Anderson jogged around to the driver's side, and got in. He'd found
himself a little unconventional family- two guys, a dog, and a.... well, and
a Volvo. That couldn't be too bad, could it?
"Nah," he thought to himself as he drove off, "not too bad at all."