Date: Sun, 9 Oct 2016 00:07:40 -1000
From: Mark Dross <stateofblues@gmail.com>
Subject: Loving Conor Chapter 12

This is a fictional story, written purely from my desires and
fantasies. The story contains graphic scenes of bisexual and homosexual
sex, in which the characters do not use condoms. I do not promote or
condone unsafe sex, but in my story there are no sexually transmitted
diseases or unwanted pregnancies. So, by all means, indulge yourself in the
safety of your imagination.

If you would like to be notified when future chapters or related stories
are released, let me know.

Please consider donating to Nifty to keep all the wonderful stories
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--------------------------------

Loving Conor - Chapter 12

Sleeping without Conor's body against mine could hardly be called sleeping
at all. I was tempted to try and call him, but didn't want to disturb
Sean... Conor would get in touch with me if he needed me. I was tired, but
whenever I closed my eyes, I saw Sean's battered and bloody form and felt
his life ebbing away under my hands. I tossed and turned and tried to focus
on three words... "I love you".

Now that the big fireball in the sky was up, it was time for action. First
on my agenda was to check on Sean and get my marching orders from Conor. I
reached for my phone just as someone knocked on the door, then opened it to
a very groggy Sam with a bad case of bedhead and a sour face.

"Check your damn phone. Conor needs you. I'm going back to bed."

"Thanks, Sam. Sorry." Sam mumbled something unintelligible as she walked
back to her room.

Panic set in as I realized that I hadn't taken my phone off silent from my
visit to the hospital. I had a missed call from Thomas, and missed calls
and messages from Conor, the first sent right after I left the hospital.

"Sean's mom, Chloe, is arriving at 7:30 in the morning. I told her you
would be there and sent her your picture. Let me know when you get this."
The message was followed by flight information.

I scrolled through the rest of the messages...

"They had to take Sean back into Surgery. He's still bleeding inside. Can
you come wait with me?"

"I tried calling, but you didn't answer. Where are you, B?"

"Sean is stable now and sleeping. Call me."

"Shit, my phone battery is getting low. There's no phone in this room and I
don't want to leave Sean. I'll shut my phone down and try in the
morning. Can you bring my charger, and some clothes too? I don't know how
long I'll be here."

The last of the messages was sent recently...

"Okay, I'm freaking out. Why aren't you answering?"

"Calling Sam."

I dialed Conor's number, but the call went straight to voicemail. The good
news was that I had time to pick Sean's mom up. The bad news was that Conor
was stressed out because I hadn't replied. With everything going on, the
last thing I needed to do was add extra stress to the situation.

After getting myself ready, I grabbed Conor's phone charger and a couple
changes of clothes and set off to the airport. Along the way I called
Thomas back.

"Hey Thomas, it's Brandon. I had missed calls from you."

"I just wanted to let you know that we got the son of a bitch."

"That's great news! You guys work fast."

"Well, he made it easy. We found his ass in bed watching TV like nothing
ever happened. He denied everything of course, until I showed him a picture
of his footprint on Sean's shirt. The idiot left his muddy shoes outside
his front door and they were a match. With Sean's testimony, he'll be
locked up for a long time. You were right about warrants too; the bastard
is wanted back in Ireland for the same damn thing."

"Does Sean know yet?"

"Yes, I went by first thing this morning. Conor has been trying to reach
you, too."

"Yeah, I got his messages. I'm going to pick Sean's mom up now. Do you know
what room he's in?"

"They were talking about transferring him to a room soon, but I think he's
still in the Intensive Care ward."

"Okay. I can't thank you enough, Thomas. I'm glad you were there."

"I'm glad we were both there. Take care, Brandon."

"You too."

I arrived at the airport with enough time to grab some coffee. I had no
idea what Chloe looked like, so I watched the faces of people as they
filtered from the plane. After a few minutes, I noticed two women look at a
phone, then at me, then at the phone again. The resemblance to Sean of one
woman was apparent, and the other was without question... Conor's mother!

I smiled and waved, then put out my hand for introductions, and was quickly
enveloped in Chloe's arms. From the hug that ensued, any onlookers would
have thought we were long lost relatives. When Chloe finally let go, she
wiped away tears from her eyes and looked up at me.

"I understand it's you I have to thank for saving my son's life."

"I only did what anyone would do in the situation. I'm just glad he's going
to be okay."

"I'm afraid not everyone is like you, Brandon. Did they catch the man who
hurt him?"

"Yes, I'm happy to report that they caught the assho... idiot. He's locked
up and going nowhere."

Chloe clasped her hands and exhaled a sigh of relief. Nancy hugged Chloe,
but never took her eyes off me.

There was little talk as I helped the two gather their luggage and tote it
to the car. Nancy sat in the passenger seat, continuing to stare at me, and
finally broke her silence once we were on the road.

"You are Conor's boyfriend, from Arizona?"

"Ummm... Yes ma'am, I am."

"And Jim's cousin?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"And you would not hurt him?"

"I would rather die first, ma'am."

"Conor is a strong boy, Brandon, but his past has left his heart fragle. If
you care for him..."

Nancy's voice faltered.

"I care for him more than I care for myself, ma'am."

Nancy cleared her throat. "Please, call me Nancy. You're nearly my age and
your making me feel old."

"Yes, ma... I mean Nancy. Does my age difference with Conor concern you?"

"Oh, no, I... that's not..."

Chloe recovered for Nancy. "When your children have been through what ours
have, such things matter little, Brandon. I can accept Sean being gay and
age differences, so long as he's loved."

Attempting to avoid more questions, I tried to change the subject. "Conor
didn't tell me you were coming."

"He doesn't know... I didn't know until the last minute."

"Well, he'll be happily surprised then. How long will you be staying?"

"As long as it takes."

With no explanation of what "it" was, I decided against asking.

The conversation felt a bit awkward, but at least we reached the hospital
before I could say anything too stupid. The two ladies freshened up in the
restroom while I asked at the reception desk about Sean. When they
returned, I had some good news; Sean was out of intensive care and in his
own room, just an elevator ride away.

We planned our entry before we got to the room. Chloe and I would go in
first, then I would get Conor into the hallway where his mother would be
waiting. The problem with the plan, however, was that Conor wasn't in the
room and Sean was sleeping. I spotted a note on the bed table. "Going to
the cafeteria for a bite. Back soon."

Nancy and I left Chloe with Sean and found Conor eating at a small table
facing a window. I hung back while Nancy went to her son. Nancy tapped
Conor on the shoulder and he nearly knocked the table and chair over trying
to get to her. I found myself wanting to laugh and cry at the same time at
the emotional reunion. After a very long hug and what I presumed to be the
answer to "How did you get here?", Nancy pointed to me, which I took as my
cue to join the two. I didn't quite get the same greeting as Conor's
mother...

I walked up and handed Conor his things. Conor scrunched his
brow. "Apparently you got my messages, why didn't you answer your phone?"

"I'm so sorry about that. I had silenced it and forgot..."

"You forgot? I was sick to my stomach all night worrying, and you forgot?"

Nancy poked Conor in the shoulder. "Conor, where are your manners?"

"Well, I didn't get any sleep last night... because he "forgot!""

I knew Conor was tired and stressed out, and I should have kept my mouth
shut, but after all I had done I felt slighted. "Yeah, you look it, too!"

Nancy poked my shoulder. "Brandon! Both of you stop it! Let's go check on
Sean."

As we rode the elevator up, Conor made it a point to stand on the opposite
side of his mother. I tried to make eye contact and apologize, but he
ignored me.

Nancy rolled her eyes at Conor. "Stop being such an arse."

"Mother, please!"

Chloe was standing outside the door when we reached Sean's room. When she
spotted Conor, she looked surprised. "Conor? On my, you're all grown
up... and so very handsome. The nurse is with Sean, but it won't be long."

Since we had to wait anyway, I took advantage of the opportunity. "Conor,
can I have a word with you, please?"

"Not now, Brandon."

No one else understood the significance of that one, simple, word. Conor
hadn't called me by my full first name since the day we met... and I was
shocked.

The door to Sean's room opened, and the nurse stepped out. "Is there a
Brandon here?" I lifted my hand slightly. "Sean is requesting to see you
alone for a moment." I nodded and slipped into the room.

Sean looked a bit bruised, but nothing like I had last seen him. "Well, you
look better!"

"Thanks to you. I think I owe you a life debt, or something like that."

I smiled at Sean. "I think your friendship is enough. How are you feeling?"

"It hurts to laugh, and walk, and piss, and breathe, but otherwise
good. Speaking of friendships... don't give up on him, Brandon."

"Give up on wh... What do you mean, Sean?"

"It's not my place to say, just please don't give up on him."

Realization sunk in like a hot knife. I took two steps to the door and
opened it. The two ladies walked in, focusing on Sean, but I grabbed
Conor's arm before he could get past me.

"Not now, Brandon."

"Now, Conor... please."

"Fine then."

I started to walk down the hall, but Conor stood in the doorway.

With everyone still in earshot, I whispered, "Conor, what's going on?"

Conor didn't bother whispering... "What's going on!? My best friend was
bleeding to death last night, I have a thousand posters to get out, House
events to plan, and... and I needed you and you weren't there! That's
what's going on!"

"I'm sorry, Conor."

Conor reached up with both hands and pushed me. "I don't need you to be
sorry, damn it! I need... I... need..."

I saw Conor's eyes fill and watched him strugle to stand. I reached out and
grabbed his shirt, then pulled him into my chest and cradled his
head. Conor started to pull away, then melted in my embrace and broke down.

"Hey... hey. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

I led Conor to a small couch in the room and sat next to him. The couch had
a pillow and sheet on it, still folded and unused. Conor leaned on my
shoulder, already fading. I put the pillow in my lap and let him bury his
face in it. In less than a minute, Conor was out.

All eyes had been on us since Conor lost it, and I hesitated to look
up. Conor hadn't seen the surprised looks when he started yelling at
me... hadn't seen the looks of horror and fear when I took his shirt in my
fists. I brushed a lock of hair from my love's face, then raised my
head. Nancy, Chloe, and even Sean were wiping away tears.

Nancy walked over and kissed Conor's cheek, then kissed mine.

"That was quick, Nance."

"Yes, it was."

Thankfully Sean asked the question I was thinking. "What are you two
talking about?"

Chloe looked at me. "She's here because of you, Brandon."

"Me?"

"To make sure her son was not making poor relationship decisions. It seems
that sort of thing runs in our families."

I glanced at Sean, who probably didn't need the reminder about
relationships. If the jibe bothered him, it didn't show. Sean smiled at
me. "Well, I can vouch for him."

Then Nancy smiled. "You remind me of Jim, Brandon."

"That's a big compliment. Thank you."

My reply was genuine. Jim was tough and gruff on the outside, but he had a
heart of gold.

The conversation shifted when Chloe asked what the thousand posters were
for, and Nancy cried again as Sean and I explained Conor's dedication to
rebuild the dance school. I had every intention of helping get the posters
out and picking up the slack at The House, but the heartbeat under my hand
was all I cared about at the moment. Conor was obviously upset with me. I
knew he was tired, but I also knew there was more to the story, which Sean
apparently knew but couldn't tell me. I would have to hear it from Conor,
but something told me I wouldn't like what he had to say.

After Sean closed his eyes and joined Conor in some far off dreamland, the
two women went down to get some food. They were gone for about ten minutes
when Conor stirred and looked up at me."

"Shit, B, how long have I been out?"

I smiled when Conor used the shortened version of my name again.

"Almost two hours."

"And you sat here the whole time?"

"I would have sat here for an eternity."

"I'm sorry about going off like that... and in front of everyone, too."

"Honestly, it couldn't have happened at a better time. Your mom got to see
that I'm not like Aiden, and I think I passed some test."

Conor smiled, but I could tell something was wrong, and knew for sure at
his next words.

"We need to talk, B."

A lump formed in my throat. In the history of humanity, nothing good has
ever followed "We need to talk".

"What about?"

Conor looked at the ground. "I need some space."

My heart stopped beating... "I'm not a teenager Conor. I know what that's
code for. Is that what you really want."

"I can't do it anymore. I'm sorry."

"Do what, exactly?"

"Us... I can't do us anymore."

"I don't understand. Can we at least talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about. Please don't make this more
difficult... just go... go back to Arizona and get on with your life."

"But, Conor, I'm not..."

"Get the fuck out, Brandon! I mean it, go!"

I handed Jim's car keys to Conor. "I'll take a cab. Goodbye, Conor."

"Goodbye, Brandon."

As I was walking out of the room, I heard Sean's voice. "Conor, what have
you done?"

I didn't take a cab back to The House. In fact, if it wasn't for my
obligation to Jim, I wouldn't have returned at all. I made my way to the
water and walked the shoreline, trying not to think, but failing. I tried
to convince myself that Conor had just been tired... that I would get a
text or call, or that he would be waiting for me at The House. The finality
in his voice, however, was undeniable. My knees hit the sand then, and my
entire body shook as I sobbed. The pain was so overwhelming, like taking a
grenade to the chest. Losing Julie was unbearably difficult, but
this... this was tearing my soul apart. I had no way of seeing Julie again
in this life, but Conor was alive and breathing, and I was supposed to live
every day knowing that I couldn't be with him again... couldn't kiss his
lips or lie next to him again? I fought the urge to roll over and let the
waves take me, then something registered... a voice in my head... no,
another voice... "Are you okay, sir?" I lied to the lifeguard... told him
my father had just died, though both of my parents were alive and well. The
truth simply hurt too much to be spoken out loud, especially to a stranger.

I walked the miles down the beach, too numb to notice time passing, then
was finally near Rose's boutique when I spotted something that got my
attention... it was one of the posters that I helped Conor make. I walked
up the steps, then realized the poster was on the inside of the window, and
scratched my head in confusion. As far as I knew, all of the posters were
still locked in the trunk of Jim's car.

When I turned to walk away, Rose opened the old door and came out.

"Hello, Brandon."

"Oh, hi Rose. I just noticed the poster, and... well, I'm baffled as to how
it got there."

"I put it there, but that part is obvious. I was down the way when I saw a
very handsome young man tape it to the outside of my window. He left before
I could reach him. The poor soul had a profound sadness in his eyes,
Brandon, as if he had abandoned all hope... the same sadness I see in your
eyes now."

"I'm afraid hope has abandoned me, Rose... hope and love."

Rose walked up and put her hand on my chest. I didn't know what she was
doing, but her touch and her gaze were once again comforting.

"I can feel your heart beating, Brandon. Neither hope nor love has
abandoned you. Why are you choosing to abandon them?"

"It's complicated."

"Love is never complicated, Brandon. People are complicated, but love is
only love. You, who have lost someone you love to this life should know
that."

"How... how did you know?"

"We are kindred souls, Brandon. All of us who have lost those we love are
connected. You just have to look, and you will see. But miracles happen
when the heart dares to hope. You must not give up."

"What if I'm not the one giving up?"

Rose pointed to the picture of Clarissa.

"That is someone who has given up, Brandon, but because others dare to
hope, even she can find her way again."

Rose opened the door to the old building. Her voice cracked with emotion as
she entered and closed the door behind her. "Don't give up on him,
Brandon. Dare to hope!"

Dare to hope? Rose was a nice lady, and I was sure she meant well, but what
did she know... really? Okay, she seemed to have figured some things out,
but she didn't know me, and she certainly wasn't there when Conor ripped my
heart out and stepped on it. How can a heartless man hope for anything?

My trek from the hospital had taken few hours. When I entered The House,
the place looked empty. I walked to the kitchen and noticed the boxes that
once contained the posters were on tables, all empty. Conor had indeed been
here while I was out, and it was him that Rose had seen. With that riddle
solved, I headed to Conor's room... and once again my heart took a
hit. Conor's door was locked and my suitcase was sitting on the
floor. Sadness gave way to anger then. I grabbed the handle and tossed the
bag to the end of the hall... nearly hitting Sam as she rounded the corner.

"Shit, what the hell?"

I mumbled, "Sorry", then grabbed the case without further explanation. I
had planned on staying in Jim's room anyway, but... Conor told me to go,
and that's just what I meant to do. Jim would just have to understand.

"Brandon, wait!"

"No, Sam. I'm leaving. It was nice knowing you."

"Damn it, Brandon, talk to me! What the fuck is going on?"

I stopped without turning around. "I'm leaving."

"You already said that, but why?"

"Conor didn't tell you?"

"Conor came in and distributed the posters, then left. I could tell
something was wrong, but he wouldn't talk to me about it."

"Conor tossed me out like fucking garbage, that's what's going on! I can't
stay in this place with him around. Goodbye, Sam."

I started walking again.

"Conor isn't going to be here, Brandon. They're all staying at Sean's
apartment and I could use your help here without him."

I stopped and turned around. Conor was abandoning his post, and I was about
to abandon mine.

"Shit! I'll stay and help, but I can't promise I'll have a good attitude."

"Well, the event for tonight has been canceled since everyone is plastering
the town with posters. Hopefully things will be better tomorrow."

"Don't count on it, Sam."

A few minutes later, Sam pried for information as we poured a drink at the
bar.

"... I don't know, Sam. Yesterday he said he loved me, and today he wants
me out of his life."

"Wait, he told you he loved you?"

"Last night, at the hospital. He was on his way to see Sean and I didn't
get a chance to respond. Then, this morning..."

"Well, that explains it then."

"I don't see how that explains anything."

"What happened the last time Conor used the word, love, Brandon?"

I thought for a moment... "He walked away like a scared mouse."

"He's running, Brandon... running back to Sean because he's afraid of his
feelings for you. I knew Sean was going to be trouble."

"Well, Sean tipped me off that something was going on. I don't think Sean
is the troublemaker here... It doesn't matter, Sam. I was a fool to think
that it would work between us. It's over."

"So you're just giving up then? That's bullshit, Brandon!"

"Bullshit? Bullshit is tossing my stuff from his room like I didn't pay the
rent! Bullshit is leading me on, knowing he would never commit! Bullshit is
all of the things I did to get my "shit" together that he doesn't know
about because he apparently doesn't care! None of that matters now! I'm
done with his bullshit, Sam!"

I downed my shot and walked away with a glaring look from Sam, then took my
bag upstairs to Jim's room and fell on the bed. I picked up my phone and
started a search for rentals in Miami. I had grown fond of Florida, but
staying in this town wasn't really an option any longer. As I was browsing
through a site, my phone rang in my hand. I would have dismissed the call
but accidentally hit the answer button.

"Hello, this is Brandon."

"Hi, it's Clarissa."

"What can I do for you, Clarissa?"

"Do for me? No, I called to thank you, Brandon. Funds are already starting
to flow into the school account... it's incredible actually. To be honest,
I had given up. Thank you for giving me hope, Brandon."

I nearly dropped my phone.

"Brandon, are you there?"

"Yes, I'm here, and that's great news. I only played a small part, but
you're welcome."

"Can you tell Conor, please? I tried to reach him but he's not answering
his phone."

"Well, Conor is... you should try calling him again. I'm sure he would like
hearing it from you."

"Oh, and Clarissa?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for giving me hope."

"Ummm... You're welcome?"

It was all too much to take in. I had no idea what forces were conspiring,
but apparently something or someone was trying to get through my thick
skull. The last few hours were now a blur... the cloud of doubt lifted and
clarity set in as two phrases kept repeating in my mind...

"Don't give up on him, Brandon. Dare to hope!"


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To be continued...