Date: Fri, 20 May 2016 15:36:32 -1000
From: Mark Dross <stateofblues@gmail.com>
Subject: Loving Conor - Chapter 6

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 donaiting to Nifty to keep all the wonderful stories
going. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

--------------------------------

Loving Conor - Chapter 6

Conor and I were awakened early in the morning by his phone. I could hear
the accent on the other end of the conversation, and I knew it was
Markov. When Conor hung up, he said, "The coach is sick, and wants me to
teach the classes for the day. Honestly I would rather spend my time with
you, but... " I interrupted Conor by placing a finger on his lips, then
gently kissing him. "I understand. Go do what you need to do. I'll help Sam
get the place cleaned up." Conor smiled and kissed me back, then quickly
got ready and left the room yelling, "I should be back around six tonight!"
as he closed the door.

I spent the morning helping, Sam, Tom, and Charles repack the van and get
the Common room put back together. Charles seemed like a completely new
person now that he was free from Eve, and I knew he would be back
around. After we were done with the Common room, I cleaned and prepped the
bar, then Tom and I flipped a coin to see who had to clean the Red Room. I
lost.

Thankful for Jim's foresight, I grabbed the hose from the wall and set to
work. The room still smelled of sweat, cum, and piss. Various sex toys were
scattered about, so I put some gloves on and stuck the toys in a cleaning
solution. I had no idea who used the room after the incident with Eve, but
the melted wax and trickles of blood on the floor were a good indication of
what they had been up to. After giving everything a good hose down, I
grabbed a towel and dried it all off, then tossed the gloves in the trash
and looked around.

For some reason, an image of the door to this room was the last thing on my
mind the night before. Why the red door? On my first day here, Conor had
revealed what was behind the door, and my brain scrambled. I knew rooms
like this existed, but encountering one in person had never crossed my
mind. My initial reaction to the room was pure shock, like walking face
first into a brick wall in the dark. I was confused by the existence of the
room in this place. Jim had led a wild life, but a room designed entirely
for sex and bondage? It all seemed extreme, even for Jim. All I could say
at the time was "Wow!" then Conor smiled at me, and my cock twitched. I had
been drawn to Conor since the moment I met him, and as I looked around the
room back then, the possibilities seemed endless and exciting, but
frightening at the same time. That same evening, Conor had given me a
choice. I could join the wild orgy in the room or be with him. There was no
moment of hesitation - no pause to think about my answer. The Red Room held
no power over my desire to be with Conor.

After spending time at The House and getting to know the guests, I
understand. The existence of the Red Room may appear extreme to the average
person, but for the young revolutionists who stay at The House, the Red
Room is a symbol. Sex is not something to be hidden in the dark, ashamed
of, or the cause for persecution. For those who dare to be honest - The Red
Room symbolizes sexual freedom. My imagination kicked into overdrive, and
thoughts of being alone in this room with Conor took over.

The whipping pole. The name of the simple contraption inspired a sense of
foreboding, and having seen Eve whip Tom did little to suppress the
feeling. I understood, however, that different people respond to pain in
different ways. For some, pain was simply pain. For others, pain enhanced
pleasure. For a few, pain was pleasure. I had little idea where I landed on
the scale, and no clue where Conor fit. I did know, however, that I wanted
to explore my options with Conor.

I turned my attention to the sling... The sling offered a way for one
person to surrender completely to another. I pictured Conor in the device,
legs spread wide, his cock, hole, and mouth exposed...

"Need any help with that?" When the deep voice and strong grip on my
shoulder woke me from my daydream, I realized my hand was in my pants
holding my hard cock. I was pulled roughly back into an embrace from
behind, pinning my arm in place. I looked down to see two tattooed
forearms, and knew who it was. "Hi Tom. I was just finishing up in here."
Tom said, "I see that. I also see you've got a boner that needs
attention. I wanted to thank you for coming to my rescue last night, and I
know a few ways I can repay you." Tom was hot, there was no doubt about
that, but this didn't feel right. Just as I was about to politely turn Tom
down, Sam walked into the room.

"Oh my god! What the fuck are you two up too!?" I opened my mouth to
explain, and Sam said, "Your boy toy is gone for a few hours so you snag my
boyfriend?" Tom kept his grip on me as I replied, "No, your boyfriend came
on to me. I was..." Sam said, "You're the one with your hand on your dick!"
Tom finally spoke up, "He's telling the truth, Sam. Don't get your panties
in a ruffle!" Sam said, "You are both full of shit!", then stomped out of
the room.

Tom let me go and said, "Sorry, man. I was just fucking around." I said,
"We're good, Tom, but what's going on with Sam? Yesterday she offered to
blow me for a drink, now she's pissed off for something that didn't happen?
Besides that, it's obvious you two have an open relationship. What gives?"
Tom replied, "Conor fucking gives, that's what. She still cares for him,
but he's the perfect little angel that she can't have anymore because she's
the devil... well, not really but you know what I mean." I said, "I get the
analogy, yes." Tom said, "Don't worry about Sam. I'll talk to her."

I paced the floor in Conor's room, not knowing what else to do. The episode
with Tom and Sam had me rattled. I had only known Conor for a few days, but
for some reason I couldn't bare the thought of hurting him. I could see no
sense in talking with Sam, her jealousy for Conor was blinding her. My only
hope was that Tom would sort it out. I was sick to my stomach and realized
that I hadn't eaten all day, so I set off to the kitchen. As I neared the
kitchen door I heard raised voices.

"Why the fuck did you tell him, Sam? I told you what happened! Conor isn't
yours anymore so you need to just get over it and let him go!"

"You think I'm jealous? That I'm being spiteful? Conor has a right to know
who he's been giving himself away to, so fuck you, Tom!"

I didn't move as Sam stormed out of the kitchen, stabbing me with her eyes
as she passed. To be truthful, I wanted to grab her by the throat and choke
her, but I let her go. Tom came out a few seconds later and said, "She
wouldn't listen to me, man, sorry." I said, "Yeah, I heard. I may need some
help explaining things to Conor." Tom said, "No worries, bro. I got your
back." My appetite was thoroughly destroyed now, and I didn't feel like
hanging around and waiting. I thought of calling Conor but I knew it would
be best to see him in person, so I decided to go to the gym and wait for
him to finish. I pulled up a map on my phone and set off on foot.

As I walked along, I thought about the situation. If Conor did believe Sam,
would he even care? Regardless of how Conor felt, why do I even care? It
wasn't like we had made a commitment to each other or anything. At first, I
couldn't pinpoint why it was bothering me so much, but then I remembered
Conor's words, "When I looked into your eyes, I saw sincerity." There it
was. Conor had chosen me for a reason, and I wasn't about to let the antics
of a horny boy or the jealousy of an ex-girlfriend fuck everything up!

I looked at the map on my phone noting that I was about halfway to the
gym. I had forgotten how far the trek was, but I still had plenty of
time. A text from Conor came through, "We should talk." I started to reply,
"I'm on my way to..." Omph! I ran straight into someone who had stopped in
the middle of the sidewalk, and my phone went flying. "Damn, dude, watch
where you're going!" I looked at the guy I ran into, fully intent on
calling him an asshole for getting in my way, then realized he was on
crutches. "You're right. I'm sorry sir." By the time I found my phone,
countless people had stepped on it and the screen was shattered. I took a
deep breath and calmed myself. All I needed to do was focus and I should
remember how to get the gym.

I had no idea how long I had been walking or where I was. I borrowed a
phone earlier, but had no numbers memorized. I checked the White Pages and
found the main number to The House, but no one answered. I found the number
for Markov's place, but got his voicemail. I looked everywhere for a Taxi,
but never saw one. I just kept walking. I finally spotted a familiar set of
buildings in the distance, and quickly made my way.

The sun was setting as I looked up at the sign, "Cillian's Irish Pub". I
went in and and planted myself on a barstool. Cillian walked over and said,
"Hiya. Conor's friend, right?" I said, "Yeah, well I used to be. Pour me a
pint, please." Cillian said, "Oh, I see. Well, the first one is on the
house, and you can tell me all about it." I didn't think Conor would
appreciate me telling Cillian much of anything, but I was happy to grab the
pint of Gat and down it. Once the first pint was gone, I chased it with a
shot of Jameson, then did the same for the second, and the third, fourth,
and... I lost count after that.

I knew my limits, and knew that I had surpassed them. As I got up to go the
Jacks, I stumbled and nearly went down. I collected myself as best I could
and finally got to the restroom doors, then stood trying to comprehend
which Irish word meant Male. Luckily a girl came out of one door, so I
picked the other and went in. With one hand on the wall for support, I
leaned into the urinal but failed at getting my dick out fast enough and
pissed on my feet and the floor. I didn't care. The fellow next to me did
care, however. "Hey, fuck head, watch where you're pissing!" Luckily I've
never been an angry drunk. I slurred out an apology, fumbled with my dick
and got my shorts zipped back up, then staggered back to the bar.

Cillian tried to hand me another drink, but I had enough sense left to wave
it away. I opened my wallet, then realized I had forgotten how to count
past ten, so I grabbed two hundred dollar bills, and pointed out the guy
that I pissed on, telling Cillian that I wanted to pay for his meal and
whatever he was drinking, and to keep the rest for his troubles. An Irish
band had started playing, so I made my way to a quiet corner and sat
down. The music was sweet, and it made me think of Conor... then everything
faded, and the music turned into Conor's sweet voice... "Brandon. Hey,
Brandon. Let's go home."

I knew the feeling all too well, though it had been a few years. I opened
my eyes slowly, thankful it was dark. Then I panicked... where the fuck was
I? I felt a hand touch my shoulder and tried to push it away, unable to
focus on who was touching me. "Brandon. It's me." It was Conor's voice. I
relaxed for a second, then remembered what happened with Tom and Sam. I
tried to tell Conor I was sorry, but my mouth was too dry to speak. Conor
said, "I have something for you. It'll make you feel much better, but you
have to drink it all, and don't ask what's in it." Conor lifted my head up
and tucked a pillow behind it, causing my brain to slosh and explode, then
he put a glass to my mouth and started pouring. The liquid tasted foul, and
I realized I didn't want to know what was in it. After the last drop of
slime went down my throat, I got two words out, "I'm sorry."

Conor said, "I'm just glad you're okay. Cillian was impressed with how much
you drank and could still stand, and impressing Cillian is no easy task. He
insisted you were Irish. Besides, heaven knows I've plenty of experience
taking care of drunks. I've been doing it since I was ten." I grabbed
Conor's hand and said, "No. I mean, yes. I'm sorry for that, but..." My
head throbbed, "Ouch, fuck. I know Sam talked to you, but I swear it's not
like she said. Just ask Tom. He'll tell you." Conor said, "Why would I do
that? I don't have any reason to trust Tom when it comes to sex." My heart
sank. "Conor, you have to trust me... "

Conor didn't raise his voice or seem angry, just disappointed. "No,
Brandon. I don't have to trust you. If you haven't figured it out yet,
trust is a big deal for me. I could never trust my father, he always said
he would do this or that but he never did. Every time he hit me he said he
would never do it again, but he did. He said he would never leave me, but
he did. I couldn't even trust my mom, the drugs and drinking took that from
me. I could never trust Sam, she's always out for the next thrill no matter
the cost. So no, I don't have to trust you, Brandon."

My eyes adjusted, and I could see Conor now, and wished I
couldn't. Whatever he had given me was working quickly, but seeing Conor
like this made me feel worse than any hangover ever could. I didn't know
what I could say to make him believe me, and it appeared my only true
witness, Tom, wasn't going to be any help. "Conor... I... all I have is the
truth." Conor looked into my tear clouded eyes. "What is the truth,
Brandon?"

"I was cleaning the Red Room, and Tom came in. I don't know if he was
actually hitting on me, or just horsing around, but before I could tell him
to back off, Sam walked in. Nothing did happen, and nothing would have
happened. You have my word. If that means anything."

Conor stood and walked to the window, then slid a curtain open, letting the
morning light fill the once dark room. I cringed like a vampire, expecting
the light to hurt, but it didn't. Conor said, "I told you it would
work. The recipe was given to me by an old gypsy. It saved my mom from
withdrawals too many times to count. I probably should have let her suffer
more than I did, but I couldn't bare seeing her in pain. Just like I can't
stand seeing you in pain." Conor turned toward me, then walked back to the
bed and knelt down next to me, his eyes once again looking into the depths
of my soul.

"Listen. We're not married. We're not technically boyfriends. We haven't
proclaimed our love for each other. I don't even know your last name, and
fuck it all, you're leaving soon. I guess it shouldn't matter, but
apparently it does. Just look at you. You went out and got wrecked because
you thought I might believe Sam, and I stayed awake half the night worrying
about you." Conor paused, "At a minimum, we care for each other, and when
Sam called me yesterday, I have to admit I wasn't happy. Then I remembered
it was Sam, and I refused to pass judgment until I heard from you. Then
Cillian called, saying you passed out at his place, and how much you
drank..." Conor's face softened. "I believe you, Brandon, and I trust
you. I don't have to trust you, but I do." A feeling of relief washed over
me, and came out in a flood of tears. I put my hand out and said, "Brandon
van Duren. I'm Dutch." Conor took my hand and smiled, "Conor O'Keefe, as
Irish as they come."

Conor was right. We hadn't defined our relationship, but we cared, and that
mattered. "Conor, I... I... oh, fuck!" I barely made it to the toilet in
time to puke up pints of Gat. Conor soaked a rag in cold water, then put it
on the back of my neck. "I should have warned you that was coming. The good
news is, you'll be right as rain in no time." There was a knock at the
door. Conor said, "I'll go see who that is, you brush your teeth. Your
breath smells of ox cum. Conor walked toward the bathroom door, and it hit
me, "Ox cum?" Conor laughed, "Just brush your teeth, van Duren... and use
mouth wash if you ever want to kiss me again."

Conor had closed the bathroom door behind him, but I could hear Sam's
voice. I brushed my teeth, rinsed my mouth twice, and washed my face. Conor
peeked in and said, "You look better already. Sam wants to talk to you if
you're up for it. Quite honestly, I didn't want to hear from Sam, but I
wasn't about to add more drama to the situation. I stepped out of the
bathroom and walked over to Sam.

"I need to apologize to both of you. I overreacted and said things I
shouldn't have. I'm sorry." Conor reached over and hugged Sam. I cleared my
throat, then said, "I had no intention of doing anything with Tom." Sam
said, "I know. Tom was just being Tom, and normally it wouldn't matter,
but..." Sam looked at Conor, "I guess I still have feelings for you." Conor
said, "You know I care for you, Sam. Nothing will change that. Just realize
that even well meant intentions can have bad consequences. I mean, just
look at the poor guy. He drank enough to put an elephant down last night."
Sam looked at me and scrunched her lips. "I can see that. You look like
sh... sorry." "Shit... yeah, I know. Apology accepted." Conor said, "Of
course I forgive you, Sammy."

After Sam left, Conor insisted that I get back in bed and rest while he got
us some food. The miracle slime had nearly cured my hangover, but I was
weak and dehydrated. I tried to recall exactly what I had said and done
when I was at Cillian's, not sure if I could show my face there again, but
everything was a blur, well... almost everything. I decided it didn't
matter. I would be headed back home soon and all of this would be a
memory. I just needed to enjoy the time I had left.

Conor returned with two plates of eggs, toast, and oatmeal, and a pitcher
of water. With no table in the room, we sat on the floor facing each other
and talked between bites of food.

"You snore and talk in your sleep when you're drunk."

"Do I even want to know what I said?"

Conor chuckled, "You were going on and on about fulfilling my fantasies. It
was kind of cute, actually."

"I missed the urinal and hit someone's shoe. I doubt that guy thought it
was cute."

Conor nearly choked, "You pissed on someone? Oh, that's one for the diary."

"Yeah, I'm sure it'll be funny someday. Did I say anything else?"

"Well, yes. You were talking about the Red Room. It was mostly gibberish,
but you said you wanted me in there. Is that true?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure. I lost the coin toss with Tom and had to clean the
Red Room and my imagination went a little crazy before I was rudely
interrupted by Tom. I don't have any experience with the whole BDSM
scene. What about you?"

Conor picked his phone up and typed something out, then set it down and
looked at me.

"Before I give you my answer, there's something we need to take care
of. Tom should be here in a minute, and things may get a little weird. I'm
asking you to follow my lead, and go with whatever happens. Will you trust
me?" I was a bit confused, but before I could ask any questions, a knock
came at the door. I just nodded in agreement.

As soon as Tom came in, he said, "Hey guys. Sorry about all the shit with
Sam. I was just fucking around and she flipped out. It's not like I was
serious or anything. We good, right?" Conor smiled, "Of course we're good,
Tom." Conor took my hand and put it on Tom's crotch as he said, "In fact,
Brandon was hoping you were serious, right B?"

It took everything I had not to pull my hand away. After everything we just
went through, and now it seemed Conor was pimping me out? I had made the
choice to trust Conor and follow his lead, so I put on my best "fuck me"
face on and massaged Tom's already growing bulge. Tom closed his eyes and
said, "Fuck yeah guys." Conor said, "So Tom. Brandon told me you flipped to
see who cleaned the Red Room, but you know damn well we have a cleaning
service for that, and I know damn well you have trick coins!" Tom opened
his eyes, "Well, yeah, I was just - ouch fuck!"

I caught on quickly and was instantly pissed off, and I squeezed. Tom
stammered, "I just thought... ahhhh!" I said, "You thought what? You
thought you were going to trick me into being alone with you in that room?
You thought you were going to fuck me, or I was going to fuck you?" I had a
good grip on Tom's nuts, his thin mesh basketball shorts and no underwear
making it easy. "Do you have any idea what you caused? You could have
ruined my friendship with Sam and my relationship with Conor! Not to
mention causing me to break my phone and drink myself into a coma!" Tom's
knees started buckling and his face turned white, then he went to the
ground and I let go. Conor said, "We've been friends for a long time,
Tom. If you value our friendship, you won't pull a stunt like again." Tom
stood up, "I won't, bro." then he hobbled to the door and left the room.

I held up the hand had been clamped on Tom's manhood, and cum ran down my
arm.. "Something tells me he enjoyed that." Conor scrunched his face. "Sure
looks it." I walked into the bathroom and cleaned myself off. "And
something tells me Tom didn't learn a damn thing." Conor chuckled, "Nope,
but he knows you're on to him. He won't be pulling that shit again."

I leaned against the sink and looked down at my reflection in the draining
water. "Is it bad that it turned me on?"

Conor reached around and felt the stiff cock in my pants. "Is it bad that
watching you do it turned me on."

I turned and pulled Conor to me then pressed my mouth hard against
his. Conor pulled away and said, "If you want me, make me yours." At that
moment something clicked. I had no intention of hurting Conor, but all the
pent up frustration and anger needed to be released. I grabbed Conor's
shirt by the neck and tore it down the front, then spun him around and used
it to tie his hands behind his back. I pushed Conor to the wall, then
reached around his waist with both hands and pulled at his waistband,
causing buttons to go flying. I pulled harder and ripped through the zipper
and down one leg. Conor's ruined shorts fell to the ground, revealing his
ass cheeks framed by a jockstrap... perfect. I grabbed Conor by the back of
his neck, pulled him to me and put my knees in the back of his legs. As
Conor went to his knees, I moved around, grabbed his hair, and pulled his
head back. I could see a mix of emotions when Conor's green eyes met mine,
longing and lust to be sure... and fear.

Seeing the fear in Conor's eyes made me think of Eve, and the manic look
she had on her face as I pulled her off of Tom. Is that how Conor was
seeing me now? I knew I was nothing like Eve, who had obviously gone off
the deep end, but did Conor know? My questions were answered when Conor
grabbed the fly of my shorts with his teeth and attempted to pull the
single button free. I said, "Bite it off." and he did. Conor continued to
look up at me as he worked until my shorts fell to the floor. I hadn't
taken the time to clean up from the night before which was obvious by the
smell and condition of my underwear. My white briefs were covered in dried
piss stains and now had a wet spot from the precum flowing from my dick. I
pressed Conor's face into the dirty mess until he inhaled. Conor stuck his
tongue out and went to work, lapping at my filthy crotch until it was
sopping wet.

My cock strained to get out, and Conor tried to suck it through the fabric,
momentarily taking his eyes off mine. I pulled Conor's head back by his
hair again, "Do you want it?" Conor tried to nod. "I asked you a
question. Do you want it?" Conor said, "Yes, sir. I want your cock in my
mouth." As I peeled my wet briefs off, I said, "My name is Brandon, not
sir. Never call me that again." Conor said, "Yes si... I mean Brandon." I
could smell the pungent odor of my filthy cock as it sprang free. Conor
stuck his tongue under a strand of precum and followed it up to my
cockhead, then began to lick. I held my cock in place and pulled my
foreskin back while Conor's warm, wet, tongue slid up my shaft and around
my swollen dick. I pulled Conor to my sweaty balls and set them on his
tongue, then reached down and pushed them one at a time into his
mouth. With my entire nut sack in Conor's mouth, I started jerking off. It
only took a few strokes to realize I wasn't going to last long. Conor had a
way of doing that to me. I pushed Conor's head back and my balls slipped
out with a pop, then I replaced them with my swollen dick, pushing in deep.

I faced fucked Conor hard, pulling him in and holding him until he gasped
for breath. I was getting close to cumming down his throat, so I pulled out
and waited before fucking his mouth again. I continued the pattern until I
knew I wouldn't be able to hold back any longer, then said, "Stand up."
Conor stood, his ever-hard cock pressing against the front of his jock, as
if to mock the shitty day I had just experienced. I thought of Sam and Tom
and my broken phone, and... "Turn around." Conor turned, and I put his
flexibility to the test as I spread his feet further and further apart
until he was doing the splits, then I pushed his body to the floor and
said, "Don't move."

When I returned from getting the lube from Conor's nightstand, he was still
in position. I marveled at his ability... for a moment. I cared for
Conor. I loved his sweet temperament, his beautiful smile, his witty charm,
his perfect body, and every fucking thing about him, but in this moment,
right now, I just needed to use him.

In the position he was in, Conor's hole was mine for the taking. I knelt
down and spread his cheeks even wider, then started licking, causing Conor
to let out soft moans. Softness wasn't my intention, as he soon found out
when I smacked Conor's pert hole. "Ahhhh!" I did it again and again and
again until Conor's legs started trembling. To his credit, Conor took it,
not saying a word. I reached under Conor's hips and lifted. Conor took the
hint and got on his knees, face flat against the floor. I lubed up my cock,
then placed it at his bright red hole and pushed in balls deep. Conor
grunted, bucked his ass and whimpered, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck" which is
exactly what I intended on doing. I started off pounding Conor's ass hard
and fast, then pulled all the way out and slammed back in, then fucked him
again. I continued the routine, each time getting closer to shooting my
load. After the third or fourth round, Conor had precum dripping out of his
gaping hole, and each stroke made a sloshing sound as I plowed as hard and
fast as I could.

I pumped my final strokes in Conor's ass, just to the edge of squirting my
juice, then pulled out. I pushed Conor on his side, then moved up and
straddled his face. My orgasam started in my gut, and I fucked Conor's
mouth balls deep, dumping load after fucking load into his throat. Conor
started struggling beneath me, then I realized he was drowning in my cum. I
pulled out in a panic. Cum was pouring from Conor's mouth and out his
nostrils. "Oh shit! Conor, are you okay?" Conor choked as I untied his
hands, then he stood and wiped his face with his torn shirt. "Conor, I'm
sorry. I went to far. Are you okay?" Conor pulled the shirt from his face
and revealed a smile. "I'm fine. Look." Conor pulled his Jock down, and it
was full of cum. "You may have to take me clothes shopping now, but I'm
okay."

Conor and I got in the hot shower and tenderly kissed and caressed each
other as we cleaned up. The stress that had built up inside me was gone,
leaving only affection in its place. After the shower, I spooned Conor from
behind on his bed, and we talked.

"So, you asked me about my experience with BDSM."

"Yeah, I said I hadn't had any, and was wondering about you."

"Okay, well, I've only had one experience."

"Would you mind telling me about it?"

Conor chuckled "Well, it was only a few minutes ago, and you were there."

I propped myself up. "What, seriously? I was your first? I mean, I'm not
doubting you, but I presumed..." Conor slapped my leg.

"You presumed what? That I'm a little slut?"

"No, sorry. It's just... you live here, and with all of the games and the
Red Room..."

"Nope. I've never played the games or used the Red Room."

"Wow, I'm honored to be your first, but... why"

"Why you?"

"Bingo."

"I've never trusted anyone enough."

Conor sat up and pulled his knees to his chest.

"My dad worked on fishing rigs and was away a lot. When he came home for
short periods, everything was usually fine. If he stayed home for more than
a week, he got restless and mean and took it out on me and my mom. If I
acted up in the least, I got hit with the belt or caned. The nights were
terrible. I could hear him yelling and I would just lay in my bed and
cry. One night I could tell it was bad. I heard glass breaking and my mom
scream. I knew I had to do something, so I ran right past him to the phone
to call the guard... the police. My dad tore the cord from the wall and
used it to hogtie me. I screamed and called him names so he stuffed a rag
in my mouth then kicked me in the face hard enough to break my nose. Blood
splattered everywhere and I could hardly see. My mom tried to stop him but
he hit her so hard she crumbled to the floor. I thought. I thought she was
dead, and I think he did too. He left then, never once looking back. That
was the last time I saw him."

Tears streamed down Conor's face as he finished his story, and my face as I
sat up and cradled him.

"Conor, I'm so sorry. If I would have known, I wouldn't have..."

"No B, I wanted it. I wanted you to know how much I trust you."

I pulled Conor close to me. "I'm sorry about your father. It hurt like hell
when I lost Julie, but that... I can't even imagine."

Conor kissed me softly. "Speaking of Julie. When I was telling you about
talking in your sleep, I left something out. I wasn't sure I should bring
it up, but you would probably want to know."

"I was talking about Julie?"

"No. You talked to her."

"Oh. What did I say?"

"You told her you found someone. That you were happy. That you hoped she
understood."

"I see. I suppose that's true."

"Brandon, I... I know we only have a short time together, but I don't want
to be just someone you fucked. Do you think we could graduate to
boyfriends?"

I smiled and pulled Conor tight against me, pressing my face into his
hair. "I think we just did, babe. I think we did."

----------------------------------------

To be continued...