Date: Thu, 06 Feb 2003 20:59:29 -0500 From: bccccand@netscape.net Subject: Metropolitan Romance-2 Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to real people or events is coincidental. It contains descriptions of sex between adult men. If this type of material offends you, or if you are forbidden by law to read it, please exit the story now. E-mail comments are gratefully accepted. Chapter 2 "Eric, You've hardly touched your dinner. Is everything all right?" "Yea, sis. I'm fine." "I'm glad you could join us for Sunday dinner. We don't get to see enough of you. I mean we live in the same city, it seems like we ought to get together more often. I miss having my big brother around." "Uncle Eric, did I tell you I was going to enter the Science Olympiad?" "That's great, Jared. Which part are you going to enter?" "I'm considering bridge building. We made a crude one in my science class today. I know you can't actually help me with it, but if you could give me a few pointers." "I'd be glad to do that. I'm pleased that you're taking an interest in science." "He ought to be focusing on math," Jared's father interrupted. "He could become an accountant like me. There is always work for an accountant." "Paul, Jared is taking all the math his school has to offer," Carol consolingly interjected. Turning to Jared, "When is this Science Olympiad, dear? "It's next month. Uncle Eric's school is hosting it." "Eric, that must be a lot of extra work for you, isn't it," his sister asks. "There are a lot of details, but I enjoy working with it. I'm not doing any judging this year, so there shouldn't be any questions about my favorite nephew being in the event." "Mom, I need to go over to Ethan's house to study history. We have a big test tomorrow." "Are you done with your other homework? I know when you and Ethan join up, work isn't your top priority." "Jared, your mom tells me you're not dating that cheerleader - what was her name?" "Melinda. And no, uncle Eric, we broke up. She wanted to get serious. I didn't want to feel tied down." "That's right," his father stated. "Play the field like your old man. Nothing wrong with keeping your options open," he said with a conspiratorial wink to his son. "Now Paul" `Until you find the right one, that is. Like I did with your mother." "Way to squirm out of it dear." "I'm going to catch a baseball game on the tube," Paul said and then kissed his wife on the forehead before leaving the room. "Can I go to Ethan's now, mom? We really do have to study," Jared pleaded. "Sure, Jared. Don't be too late," she added as he got up to leave. "Now that we're alone, brother dear, do you mind telling me what is wrong?" "Nothing is wrong." "Sure. That wounded hound dog look is just a fashion statement. Is there still trouble at school?" "No. In fact you wouldn't know anything ever happened. Everybody seems to have forgotten all about it." "It sure was nice of that minister to come to the meeting. I think he made a big difference. Hey. Didn't the two of you get together for dinner or something?" "Yes, I had him over for dinner and then we went out to a movie another night." "So, do you think something might work out for the two of you?" "Please, Carol, I don't want to talk about this." "This is what you're upset about, isn't it? Did your date not go well? To tell you the truth, a couple of times I thought I saw him look at you - you know - that way. I thought he might be attracted to you. What went wrong?" "Are you going to insist on talking about this?" "Yes!" "Well, if you must know, he was attracted to me. On our second evening he asked if I was interested in pursuing a relationship. He said he was." "So - " "So, I told him I wasn't looking for a relationship right now." "What? Why did you tell him that?" "Perhaps because it's true?" "Eric, this is your sister, and I know you pretty darn well. And one thing I know is that you desperately want to find Mister Right. Was there something about him that turned you off?" "Carol, you're aware that my last two relationships were disasters. I seem to be attracted to the wrong kind of men. Maybe because I live my life so carefully, I'm drawn to guys who walk on the wild side. Steve is a really nice guy. Maybe too nice. I mean he's a minister, for Christ's sake. What am I going to do with a minister. I don't even go to church. It wasn't meant to be." "Eric, you can choose your friends anyway you want. I'm not going to judge you. You're my brother, and God knows you've been judged too often. I hear what you're saying about Steve, but I'm not sure even you believe it. I also wonder if you would be this upset if he was so easily dismissed." "Carol" "Tell me that you don't have any feelings for him and I'll let the subject drop." "Carol" "You can't do it can you? Oh Eric, I'm sorry it's this difficult. But don't lie to me or yourself about how you feel. Avoiding it may make it go away, but it won't solve anything." "I know, sis. I just don't know what else to do." "Steve seems like a kind man. His job is to listen. Could you try talking to him about it?" "Not now. I think I slammed the door on him pretty hard the other night." "You don't know if you don't try. Isn't it worth a little embarrassment to find out if there might still be a chance?" "I'll think about it. OK?" "OK. And Eric, always remember that I love you." ********** I'm lying on the beach. The sand is white and the sky is blue. The waves are gently breaking on the pristine shore. I'm looking up into the brightness of a cloudless day, when a figure blocks the sun. It's a lifeguard. I can tell by the red swimming trunks with an official logo on them. This guy is an Adonis. He must be about six feet tall with long, sun- bleached blond hair that hangs down in front of his deep blue eyes. He has the classic swimmer's build not surprisingly. And oh those lean, long legs with just a hint of his blond hair covering them. He flashes this dazzling smile and asks me if everything is all right. Oh yes, everything is fine. I start to get up and he offers me a hand. His hand is strong and steady. As I rise to my feet, I find myself staring at his chest and his perfect, pinkish- brown nipples. "Sir, are you sure you're OK? You look a little dehydrated," he says genuinely. Good. He's misread my mental confusion. "Let's take you back to the lifeguard station to cool you off," he says. "I think we need to get you out of the sun." What he doesn't realize is that going anywhere with him will do anything but cool me off, but of course I follow obediently. When we get to the station, we are all alone. He offers me a bottle of water and begins to massage my shoulders while standing behind me. "I think you'll start to feel better soon." I'm definitely feeling better already. I lean back into his hands and lose my footing, falling back into his arms. He easily catches me and holds on to me to steady me. As I get back to my feet, I turn around, only to wind up in an embrace. Surely I'm making a fool out of myself, but he just flashes me that beautiful smile again. Then he leans into me, with his bare, defined chest up against mine. I can feel his hard nipples brush my skin. As I look into his eyes, he brings his lips right up to mine. Our lips meet, and I can taste him. A combination of salt and citrus. I can't get enough of those lips. And while I'm losing myself in his kiss, his tongue gently presses into my mouth. I suck in his tongue for all I'm worth, meeting it with my own. Our bodies are now closer together and I can feel his erection against me, separated only by a couple of layers of nylon. He grinds his hips into me and groans into my mouth. My own erection is achingly hard, rubbing up against him. Our breathing becomes ragged as our tongues and our cocks are dueling. He tenses in my arms and begins to tremble, and then gasps with release. I can feel a moist warmth seeping through his trunks. My own body becomes rigid as wave after wave of ecstasy washes over me. As we slowly sink to the floor, holding on to each other, I hear music playing. Then a voice says, "It's 6:05 a.m. and the temperature is a balmy 50 degrees." What? Oh no. It's my alarm clock. I've had another one of those dreams. If they get anymore realistic, I'm going to have to change the sheets. Well, I guess it's time to face the real world. ********** "So, is this a new dress code for the office or are we competing for the most inappropriate attire," Loren asked as I entered the church office in an old sweat suit. "No. Tom Evans has been bugging me to come by his gym to get a workout. This morning I thought a little exercise might be good for me; help clear my mind." I knew Loren would have some wisecrack about my departure from my typical business casual wardrobe. I hated being so predictable, but I guess I'm a creature of habit. "So did it work? Clearing your mind, I mean." "Well, sort of. But there were definitely plenty of other distractions. By that grin on your face I see you know what I mean." "Were there quite a few hotties in there today?" "I felt like a diabetic in a candy store." "Eye candy for sure." "You bet. There were young hunks and burly muscle men. Just about something for everyone. Each one honed to perfection. But eye candy only. It's not like I had anything to offer any of them." "You don't know. Maybe one of them is looking for a daddy. Or, perhaps one of those young hunks has a fantasy about a preacher and the altar boy." "Loren, you are so bad. We're not even going to go there. What's on the agenda for today?" Thankfully we let that subject drop. Loren had learned how far to go in teasing without really making me uncomfortable. The banter in the office sometimes got a little risqu^Â. Loren caught on quickly that while I may have been a minister, I was also human and I liked a good dirty joke with the best of them. We had also become very confident with each other that nothing said in the office ever left the office. Personally, I didn't think there was a better church secretary to be found, even if Loren was dressed in all leather today, including leather chaps. But no matter how trusting I was in the confidentiality between us, there were definitely some things I wouldn't mention. For example, the fact that I was now so horny that I jacked off to internet porn is one bit of news people didn't need to know about their minister. Surprisingly, sexual ethics was never discussed with the hiring committee. Dating someone in the congregation is always tricky to do without it blowing up in your face, but I didn't know if it is specifically taboo. Not that it would matter, it seemed. Burned by my one attempt at a relationship, I was a little gun shy to step back into the action again. I had planned to stop by the church and do a little paperwork and then home for a shower. The phone kept ringing, and by the time I caught my breath it was already lunchtime. "I'm going to lunch, chief. Can I bring you anything?" "No. I'm going to go home, take a shower and catch up on some of my reading. If anyone needs me, you know how to get a hold of me." As I was gathering up a few things to take home with me, I heard the door open again. "Loren, did you forget something?" I stepped out into the main office to discover a man, nervously waiting inside the door. He looked familiar, but I couldn't seem to place him. "Can I help you, sir?" That's when I noticed the man's eyes. You can usually tell something about a person by their eyes. This man was deeply troubled. When in doubt, try a little levity. "I know I may not be dressed like one right now, but I am the pastor. Is there something I can do for you?" He still hadn't said anything and I was getting nervous. Sometimes the mind works on several planes at once. I was recalling that this guy attended a recent PFLAG meeting. What was it about that meeting? Now I remember. He was angry because his son just came out to him and his wife. He was actually belligerent. I truly feared for this kid. What? Oh my God! He's got a gun. ********** The creek is almost still. I resist the urge to throw rocks in the water. Dad says it disturbs the fish. Don't seem to be any fish to disturb. My cork is floating in the same place since I cast in my line. All of a sudden, my cork dives under the water. "I've got one, I've got one," I cry out while picking up my fishing pole. Now what did dad say to do. I remember, give a jerk on the line. Here goes. Whoa, that fish is really pulling. I can hear my dad, my mom and my sister clamoring down the creek bank. "We're coming son," my dad shouts. "Don't let him get away. Keep the line tight." Slowly I start to reel in my line. The reel whines as the fish puts up a regal fight. Patiently, I hold on to the pole, hoping the fish will begin to tire like my dad says. "He must be a big one, son. Just keep gently reeling him in." Before long, the fish is close enough to the bank to start splashing around. He looks huge. My dad is right there by my side with the net. "Keep bringing him in, son. You're doing fine." Finally, the fish is right up to the bank. My father deftly reaches down and scoops him up. When we take him out of the net, we see that he is a large mouth bass, at least three or maybe four pounds. Most definitely the biggest fish I ever caught. I look from the fish to my father's face. He's wearing the widest grin I've ever seen. "He's a good one, isn't he dad?" "He's a dandy, son." "I did good, didn't I dad? Aren't you proud of me?" "Son, I'm real proud of you. But remember, son, whatever you do, I'll always be proud of you. Don't ever forget that, Steve." My father's face takes on a warm glow as I bask in his approval. Finally he speaks, but softer than before. "Son, I have to go now." "Not now, dad. The fish are starting to bite." "There will be other fish, son. But it's time for me to leave." I realize how badly I don't want him to go. Why couldn't we stay here together a little longer? I don't understand. "Steve. Goodbye, Steve. And know that I love you." "No, dad. Don't go, don't go, please don't go." "Mr. Williams? Mr. Williams? I'm Doctor Johansen. I'm right here. Mr. Williams?" Where am I? What's happening? Where's the creek? Where's my dad? "Where's my dad?" "Mr. Williams, I don't know anything about your father. You are in Intensive Care. Mr. Williams, do you understand?" I began to become aware of my surroundings. Definitely a hospital. I'd been around enough of these to recognize one. A doctor was speaking to me. Am I a patient? What happened. "What happened? "Mr. Williams, you are in the Intensive Care Unit of St. Mary's Hospital. You were shot. Do you remember anything? The man in the church office. The man with the gun. He shot me! "Yes, I remember a man with a gun, at the church. He shot me?" "Yes, Mr. Williams, you have been shot. We do not know who shot you. The church secretary found you when h- he came back from lunch." "Is Loren all right?" "H- he's fine." "Doctor, we just don't use pronouns for Loren. It's better that way." "OK. Loren was shook up when the two of you were brought into the ER. Loren has been in the waiting room almost the entire time you have been in here." "How long have I been in here, doctor?" "You have been unconscious for the better part of three days. You lost a lot of blood. You were in shock when they received you in the ER." "How badly am I hurt?" "Nothing that won't heal. We did have to remove your spleen and some of you small bowel. If the bullet had gone through your body a little higher, I doubt you would have made it. Especially considering it was obviously a while before you were found." "When can I get out of here?" "Slow down. We didn't know what to expect when you woke up. There was a question of how long you were without blood flow." "You mean as in brain damage? "Yes, that was a significant fear. Do you remember anything after you were shot?" "I don't even remember being shot, merely a man pointing a gun at me." "The shock may have erased the memory. Do you remember anything else? "I was fishing with my family. I caught a big fish. My father was so proud of me." "You were mumbling something about your father when you regained consciousness. I haven't seen your father. Is he around?" "He's been dead for over thirty years." "Oh." "Is that a bad thing, I mean that I see dead people?" "They told me you had quite a sense of humor. I'm sure your friends will be relieved to know you haven't lost it." "Sorry. I couldn't resist." "That's no problem. It is actually a very good sign. And no, it's not a problem that you had an experience where you encountered your father. Working around this unit, I have heard some pretty amazing stories. I don't try to explain it, but the human experience seems to stretch in life and death moments." "I've heard quite a few death bed revelations myself. Life is ultimately a mystery." "While I would enjoy talking with you about metaphysics, you need your rest. And, there are quite a few people anxious to see you." "Thank you doctor for all you've done." ""You are most welcome, Mr. Williams." "Please call me Steve. Mr. Williams was my father." "Maybe your father was telling you it's time to step up and take the name. Get some rest and don't wear yourself out talking to people. If you have any questions, the nurses can page me. I will see you later, Mr. Williams." I didn't think I could possibly feel weirder. A man I hardly knew, shot me and left me for dead. While I was unconscious, I experienced a fishing expedition with my family and an unusual conversation with my father who has been dead for decades. "Lord, what next? "Steve, are you OK?" I struggled to see the person who just walked into the room. Without my contacts, I couldn't make out who it was. Then I realized the reason for my confusion. It was Loren. But Loren was wearing ordinary clothes, looking very - ordinary. "Loren, is that you?" "Yes, Steve, it's me. We've all been so worried about you. When I came back to the office and saw you on the floor- There was so much blood, I thought you were dead. Oh Steve, I should never have gone to lunch." "Hold on there. You didn't shoot me. This is in no way any fault of yours. Your finding me when you did most certainly saved my life." At his point, Loren began to cry. Soon the tears stopped and we moved on to Loren filling me in on a few more facts the doctor either didn't know or didn't tell me. Eventually I began to piece together the missing three days. The church held a prayer vigil. They closed the office, partly because it was now a crime scene, and partly because everyone was aware that Loren wasn't leaving the hospital to be in the office. I realized how close Loren and I had become. We were more than colleagues; we were friends. And I was glad my friend was here at my side. But I did begin to tire out and I had to ask Loren to let me get some rest. Anybody else who wanted to see me would have to wait. As Loren quietly walked out the door, I closed my eyes and was almost asleep when another voice entered the room. "I'm sorry. I'm very tired. Could you come back later?" "Rev. Williams, I'm detective O'Neal. I hate to bother you, but I have a few questions that are pretty important." I begrudgingly took notice of the distraction that was obviously not going away. He was a typical policeman. A bit stocky, but firm. His face was - plain. He put real meaning in the term "everyday Joe." He didn't look particularly menacing, but he also didn't look like what you would call sensitive. "We've been virtually sitting on this case for three days." He interrupted my once over. "If you don't mind?" "I suppose so. Shoot." "They told me you were a funny man. Can I assume that was a pun?" "Guilty as charged." "I'll get right to the point. Do you know who shot you?" "Well, yes and no." "Yes and no? Is the going to be a riddle?" "Very amusing. No. What I mean is that I saw the man before he shot me. Or at least I saw a man with a gun, pointed at me. I don't remember being shot. The doctor said the shock might have erased that memory." I suddenly became very talkative. "I also don't know the man's name or much about him, except that he was at a recent PFLAG meeting. He was very angry at that meeting. Loren could probably put you in touch with the sponsors of the group. It shouldn't be difficult to come up with a name and address." "PFLAG?" "Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays. It's a support group for family and friends of gay individuals. They meet every Monday night at the church. He's not a regular. I think last week was his first meeting. Loren can get you all the information." "Loren, huh." "Oh, Loren. Look Detective - ?" "O'Neal." "Look, Detective O'Neal. I know the police aren't wild about getting involved with gay related cases. And Loren isn't your typical church secretary, but -" "Hold your horses, Rev. Williams. I never said I had a problem investigating a `gay related' case. So don't go getting defensive on me. If you must know, I was sent specifically because this is a `gay related' case. As for Loren, I have no issues with him or her. Whatever floats your boat. It would be helpful to know how to address him or her." "Sorry to jump to conclusions. I do get a little defensive about this subject. As for Loren, we don't use pronouns and that alleviates the problem. Simply refer to Loren as Loren." "Doesn't that get - awkward?" "Not really. You get used to it quickly. Loren is a tremendous church secretary. I've never had a better one." "There is no doubt that - Loren - is devoted to you. I don't know when I've seen more loyalty. Any suggestions on how to get on - Loren's - good side. I don't think we started off very well." "I'm not surprised. Always look Loren directly in the eyes. Project as much acceptance and respect as you can muster. Respect by the way, that from my perspective, Loren has earned. That should help." "Thank you, Rev. Williams. I do want to let you get your rest. Any other questions can wait. This is enough for us to proceed. Do you have any questions?" "Only one, Detective O'Neal. Why were you specifically sent on this `gay related' case?" "I was afraid you would pick up on that. I'm not exactly `out' when it comes to the force, but everyone assumes, I guess you could say. Sort of a `don't ask - don't tell' policy. But I'm pretty much always assigned to `sensitive' cases." "I don't mind being considered `sensitive.'" "You really are a funny man. Not too many people would be joking in your situation. Get some rest. I'll be talking to you again." "I'll look forward to it." Detective O'Neal rolled his eyes as he turned to leave. At the door, he stopped and looked back. He gave me a grin and then walked out. I would have loved to be a bug on the wall when he went to question Loren. There was no love loss there for the police. I knew Loren would ultimately cooperate, because Detective O'Neal did need to know. I doubt Loren made it easy on him, though. Finally, I was able to close my eyes and drift off to sleep. But not before remembering my father's face as he said, " and know that I love you." I don't know how long I was out, but when I awoke, there was a buzz of activity around me. I realized one of the nurses was talking to me. "So you're awake. We are moving you to a regular room. Your vital signs are showing definite improvement." "You think I'm going to make it then?" I gave a slight grin. Hospital staffs aren't always known for their sense of humor. "Oh I think you'll make it. The doctor thinks you are doing much better." "Any chance I could be getting out soon?" "You will have to discuss that with the doctor, but don't get too used to the food." O.K., so she did have a sense of humor. She methodically went about disconnecting me from the spider web of wires and tubes all around me. Next thing I know, I'm transferred to a cart and down the hall we go. She wheeled me into a room that already had several baskets of flowers. Not surprisingly, Loren was waiting for me in the room. "Loren, you don't have to hang around." "Just who else do you think is going to take care of you?" I realized that was a good point. I've tried not to think about being alone, but this was one more reminder that I'm basically out there on my own. Loren picked up on the sadness in my eyes, and immediately figured out where I'd run with the statement. Graciously changing the subject, Loren picked up without missing a beat. "Most of these plants are from church members. This one over here," as Loren pointed out a specific basket, "is from your science teacher friend." Loren winked at me with a sly grin forming. Am I blushing? God, will this feeling never pass? "That was very nice of him. Remind me to send a thank you note." "That won't be necessary. He said he was going to stop by after school today." "How did he know I was getting out of Intensive Care?" "I suppose it might have come up in conversation." "Why were you and he - no, I don't think I want to know." "He was very concerned, I'll have you know." "He's probably worried that the publicity over my speaking at the school board had something to do with the shooting." "That's a nasty thing to say and very unlike you." "I'm sorry." "That is the first time you've mentioned the shooting. Do you want to talk about it?" I gave Loren an appraising look. I decided it was time to level about some of the realizations I'd made about our relationship. "I think I do. But I also want you to know, that through this ordeal, I have admitted to myself that you are more a friend than a secretary. And I couldn't appreciate that more right now." Loren looked down, I suspect so I wouldn't see the tears puddling up. "I have felt the same way, but I didn't want to be presumptuous." I decided that maybe neither one of us was emotionally ready to deal with anymore of this, so I changed the subject back to the original topic. "It happened so fast. I heard the office door open and assumed it was you, returning for something you forgot. When I first saw the man, I didn't recognize him, but he seemed familiar. Perhaps that is why I didn't sense the danger immediately. I kept trying to remember where I had seen him. But at the same time, I became aware of a nagging fear. When I finally placed him as the angry father from the PFLAG meeting, he had already pulled the gun. I don't even recall the sound of the gun going off." "So you weren't afraid for long?" "The actual fear was just for a split second. Then I had the most amazing - dream - I guess you'd call it." What was it about?" "My family was fishing. It seemed so natural, like we had done many times in the past. It could have been any of the creeks where we used to go. I caught this huge fish, and my father helped me. The amazing part was the he said he was proud of me and would always be proud of me. He even said he loved me." "Does that seem odd?" "It's not odd that he felt that way. What is odd is that he expressed it. It was so convincing." "I've never told you about Grams, have I?" "I don't think you have." "I came out to my parents when I was fifteen. They wanted me out of the house and now. I don't know if they would have thrown me into the streets or not, but I called my Grams. That's what I called my father's mother. She came and got me, that evening. She lived at least fifty miles away. She took me home and I lived with her until I went away to college. She died while I was in college. The funeral was uncomfortable as I ignored my parents and vice versa. But the whole time I lived with Grams, we never talked about my parents or why they kicked me out. She never asked about my sexuality, although she had to know. One time, she even caught me dressing in her clothes, but didn't say a word. A short time after the funeral, I went to a club dressed as outrageously as I could. Several dickheads took exception to my wardrobe, and cornered me in an alley after leaving the club. They beat me up really bad. I was unconscious when someone found me. While I was out, I had a dream about Grams. We were both dressing up for a party or something. She looked over at me and said, `Loren you are beautiful no matter what you wear. The beauty comes from within.'" Loren and I were both weeping at this point. It's amazing how intimate it felt for the two of us to be sharing these experiences. Perhaps it was because we both needed to feel loved and accepted. I wasn't convinced I believed in near- death experiences, but each of our dreams was more profound to us than a typical dream. Maybe the mind creates what it needs to hear, or maybe the line between life and death isn't as stark as we think. ********** I was lying in my hospital bed, wishing I were anywhere but here. There was a knock at the door, followed by Eric peeking into the room. "Hi. You up for company?" "Sure, come on in." "I talked to Loren so I know you might get to go home tomorrow." "That's what they are saying. I won't believe it till I'm out the door." "A little tired of being in here?" "You can say that again." Conversation slowed to a halt. I think we were both unsure where this visit was going. Eric looked up again, and with concern on his face, started again. "I know we left things sort of unresolved the other night." "I thought I understood that you weren't interested in a relationship" As I said these words, I discovered that I was still hurt by the rejection. It made me mad to think I couldn't move on. It's not like we had been involved or anything. "Steve," Eric paused, searching for the words to go on. "Steve, I don't know how to explain the way I feel. I do like you, but at my age, I am leery about starting a relationship unless I think there is a good chance of it working. I guess, to say it bluntly, I'm not sure about dating a minister. There, is that awful?" "At least it's honest. I can understand your reservations. Truthfully, I'm still learning what it means to be the pastor of Metropolitan Church. I don't have a clue what it would mean to be the significant other of that pastor. I do think I was hoping for a chance to explore the possibilities. But if you're sure that you don't want anything to do with the church, it would be difficult, I imagine." "When it comes down to it, Steve, I'm not really sure of anything. I do know that I have been almost unbearable to be around since the other night, if my sister is to be believed. Everybody at school thinks I'm down because of the school board meeting." Eric stopped again, examining everything in the room but me. "When I heard you had been shot, I got this feeling inside like I had been robbed or something. Now that you're all right, I don't quite know what to do. Can you understand?" "Yes, Eric, I suppose I can. But ultimately the question isn't what I understand, but what do you want to do." "I know, I know. Look, can we try again? I can't make any promises, but -" "You don't need to make any promises. Just being willing to try is enough for now." "So, where do we go from here?" "From what the doctor says, I'm going to be spending time at home for a while. I think he's a little worried about my returning to the office. They still haven't been able to get the blood out of the carpet. In my opinion, he's being over protective, but he's got Loren convinced, and that settles that." "I bet that's true." "Loren is more than likely coordinating people and food to come by at regular intervals. If you would want to do that, it would give us a chance to talk some more. I know you can cook." "I'd be happy to do that. I suppose I better find Loren before your dance card is filled." "I'll tell Loren it's important." "Well, I'll let you get your rest, but expect to see me soon." "I'll definitely look forward to it, Bye, Eric." "Bye, Steve." With that, he squeezed my hand as was out the door. I thought to myself, this "relationship" seems mighty complicated. All in all, though, I was still up about having another chance. What kind of chance was still to be seen? ********** Being back in the apartment felt odd. In some ways, it was as if nothing had happened. In another sense, nothing was the same. I wouldn't say I was afraid. Perhaps the need to take each day more seriously was weighing upon me. I still wasn't sure where my relationship with Eric was headed, if anywhere. I did know I had a champ of a friend in Loren. The schedule worked with military precision. People and food came by at regular intervals. The visits were often enough to keep me fed and occupied, but with time to rest in between. I knew Loren wouldn't wait long to schedule Eric's visit. I wasn't surprised when I opened the door to see him standing there, his hands carry bags of something that smelled delicious. "Are you going to invite me in, or are we going to have a picnic in the parking lot?" Once again, I discover that I had zoned out just looking at him. "Sure, come in. It smells great. What is it?" "Potato soup and homemade bread. There's also a little cheesecake for dessert." "It sounds fantastic. Here, let's set it up in the kitchen." Since my apartment was small, the eating space was in the kitchen. When I took the apartment, I was looking for something low maintenance that wouldn't take a lot of time to clean. Eric was the first person I had actually "entertained" since I moved in. The others who dropped by with food, stayed and visited awhile, but none had eaten with me. I was hoping Eric planned to do that very thing. "You are planning to stay and eat with me aren't you?" "Yes, I'd like to do that." "Great. Shall we eat while it's hot, or do you need to warm up anything?" "It should be all ready to go. Where are the plates and bowls so I can set the table? "I can do that. Let me get a few things ready. "Should you be doing that, in your condition?" "I'm recovering from a gunshot wound, I'm not an invalid." "I don't want you to over do and hurt yourself." "The doctor says that I'm in pretty good shape. I'm not supposed to lift anything heavy or do any strenuous exercise, but he said I could resume normal activity as I felt like it." "Please let me set the table." "O.K. Nurse Ratchet, the bowls are over there." Eric proceeded setting the table and I pretended to pout. Truthfully, I kind of enjoyed watching him work. He was wearing a nice pair of form-fitting pants that kept me wondering what was in them. I watched him stretch to reach a couple of glasses on a high shelf. Since I wasn't paying attention to his hands, I didn't know what happened until I heard the familiar sound of breaking glass. "Oh my God, I've broken one of your glasses." "Don't worry about it. I have plenty. They aren't crystal or anything. Let me help you clean it up." "No. No. I'll get it. Do you have a broom and dust pan?" "In the closet by the back door." He quickly set to gathering up the larger pieces of glass. Each time he found another shard, he bent over to pick it up. I though about breaking some more glasses, I was enjoying the view. One large chunk of glass had flown all the way over near me. When I went to pick it up, he insisted I wait for him. When he bent over to pick up that piece, his ass was right in front of me. I don't know what possessed me to do it. I reached out and squeezed his right butt cheek. "What the hell?" He turned around quickly, his eyes wide with amazement. All I could do was blush and look guilty. "Why did you do that?" I could tell there was more surprise than recrimination in his voice. Since I hadn't thought out doing it, I didn't have a defense planned. "It was right there in front of me, and - you know you have a great ass." He stood there staring at me, with his mouth wide open. It was obvious he had no reply. Finally, I stood up and gently nudged his lower jaw shut, letting my fingers linger on his face. Our eyes were locked together, and somehow, I summoned up the courage to move my hand to the back of his neck and slowly pull him toward me. He complied, his eyes still bugging out of his head. Tenderly, I brought my lips to his, barely touching. The contact was electric. Since he still wasn't resisting, I pulled him to me again. This time I planted my lips more firmly on his. They were warm and soft and yielding. As I brushed his lips with my tongue his lips parted and his eyes closed. He was holding a broom and dustpan, but my arms were unoccupied, and I wrapped them around him. As our bodies came together, I forced my tongue deeper into his hot mouth. He made a little groan, which was all the encouragement I needed. My hands began to roam over his shoulders and down to the small of his back. The pressure from our groins told me he was responding, so I let my hands wander down and began kneading his firm butt. We had to break to catch our breath. "Jesus, where did that come from?" "I have wanted to do that since I saw you at the school board meeting." "I didn't take you for being that forward." "I kind of surprised myself as well." He put down the things he had in his hand and took me into his arms. As he held me more firmly, he quickly remembered my injury, "I'm not hurting you, am I" "It feels fantastic. Downright therapeutic. Don't let go." This time he initiated the kiss and his tongue met mine. The passion was growing, as were other things. Finally he broke our embrace. "This feels like it's leading somewhere I don't think you're physically able to go." "It feels like somewhere I'd like to go." Then a look washed over his face. It was hard to read, but it didn't seem angry. "What's the matter, Eric? Am I pushing too fast? If we need to slow down we can. I want this relationship to have a chance. Talk to me" "Steve, I don't know how to explain the way I feel. I don't think I even understand how I feel." "Please, start from the beginning and let's see how far we get." He seemed to mull this over. It was obvious that his mind was rolling a mile a minute. I wasn't sure what to say to encourage him to let me in. So, I waited. "Steve, I'm afraid when I tell you what I've been thinking, that you won't want to continue seeing me, and I have finally realized that I do want to try a relationship with you. Do you see my dilemma?" "Let's go sit down in the other room where we can be more comfortable." We moved into the living area and sat together on the sofa, facing each other. He was still reluctant to start. "Eric. We have pretty much stumbled in this so far, and I think if we are going to make it, we will have to be open and honest with each other. I don't think either one of us wants to play any more games than we have to. If, when all the cards are out on the table, it appears that it won't work, then it probably wouldn't have worked any other way either. O.K.?" "O.K. Here goes. When I met you at the school board meeting, I instantly knew I liked you. You were very impressive in what you said to the board. What can I say; I'm an effete snob about things like that. And you were so - articulate. He paused, and I considered filling the silence, but decided to let him have whatever time he needed. Eventually, he continued. "When I invited you to go out with us after the meeting, you were so cute, in an absent minded professor sort of way. I quickly caught on that you had a dangerously sharp sense of humor, and a sense of humor is a must in someone for them to be a close friend. But I was already having reservations. I mean, I had never attended your church, so why would you do what you did for me? And even though you were from a church specifically for gays, I couldn't help but wonder if you wouldn't be judgmental of me. I'm not a churchgoer. I did want to do something to show my appreciation, and the dinner seemed safe enough. Then when you came over, I enjoyed your company. A lot. I struggled with whether or not to accept your invitation to a movie. I was having trouble envisioning myself dating a minister." He stopped again. I had many things I wanted to say and several questions I wanted to ask, but I was committed to letting him say his peace. I suspected whatever was yet to come was going to be even harder for him to say. "Oh God, this is embarrassing. One of my concerns about dating a minister was what the members of your congregation would say or do. Would they expect something from me? But there was a bigger issue nagging at me. I can't believe I'm actually going to say this out loud. Steve, one of the reasons I was afraid to date a minister was because I thought you would be uptight about sex. There. I said it!" With that, he immediately looked down at his hands. I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of his last statement, but then I realized he didn't have anyway of knowing how absurd it was. I tried to put on my serious face and respond to what he had told me. "Eric, perhaps because you are not a churchgoer, as you put it, you would have no reason to know what a minister is like. And as for being at Metropolitan, I'm still trying to figure out precisely what that means to my private life. But in response to your last concern, when you say `uptight about sex,' are you implying that as a minister I think sex is wrong or bad? Or are you assuming a lack of experience on my part that would make me an inadequate lover?" "What?" "Eric, if you're concerned about a lack of experience, then your concerns may be well-founded. Not because I'm a minister, but because I was married for over twenty-five years and I was faithful to my wife the entire time. When it comes to sex with another man, I am pretty inexperienced. But if you're concerned about what I consider acceptable as far as sex goes in a relationship like I would hope for us, then I may have some good news for you." "I don't care about how experienced you are. I merely assumed that there would be rules about sex, at least without some kind of commitment ceremony." "I do have rules about sex. I believe it should be consensual. I believe that no person should be used as some kind of object, just for sex. I ultimately think sex is better with love. And, if two people are in a committed relationship, then I believe they should be faithful to each other. But I also believe that I have no right to be judgmental of people who have a different set of rules than I do." "Pretty enlightened for a man of the cloth, wouldn't you say? "There are more enlightened ministers out there than you realize. A few narrow minded fanatics give us all a bad rap." "I feel so stupid for even bringing sex into this." "Oh Eric, there isn't anything I wouldn't wish for more, than for you to bring sex into this." "Steve, I've been unfairly judging you based on your profession, and you are still interested in me?" I determined that maybe the time for talking had run its course. Perhaps it was time to match words with actions. So I leaned into him, taking his face in both hand and pulling him toward me. This time there was nothing tentative about our kiss. Passion, mixed with frustration, brought us together with a fury. Hands, lips and tongues were everywhere. Now that we were letting go with each other, I couldn't get enough of him. I wanted to touch every part of him, kiss every inch of him. Clothing quickly got in the way and was just as quickly discarded. We were no down to our boxers, but as Eric ran his hands over my abdomen, he was reminded again of my injury. "Steve, stop. We can't." Our breathing was ragged and it was difficult for either of us to talk. I knew what his concern was and I didn't want it to stop us here. "I'm all right. Please, Eric, please." "Steve, no. Listen to me." He put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me back, firmly, but carefully. "We're not a couple of horny teenagers. There is no reason to do anything that could hurt you. We need to be more patient, that's all. At this point, I think I was pouting. I wanted to act angry, but I also wanted to get my hands back on him again too badly to make it convincing. He caught both feelings and started to grin.' "Are you always this goddamned rational," I said "You do have a foul mouth, don't you," as his grin spread into a smile. "You bet your ass I do. And speaking of your ass." I tried again to move toward him, but he held me tightly. "In time, my love, in time." As the awareness of what he said sank into both of us, our eyes refused to leave each other's gaze. A question crossed his face. I was amazed that I knew that he was asking himself if he had said the L word too quickly. I quickly wondered if it was irresponsible to say it back so soon in the relationship. Could we know already? I knew what I felt and that I had to say it. "I love you Eric." We kissed again, with the same passion, but with more control. I then stood up and led him by the hand to the middle of the room. I turned to the entertainment center against the wall and pushed play on the CD player. I knew what was queued up because I had been playing it for days as a combination of wish and prayer. As the song that I had heard a few days ago on the oldies station started to play, we held each other and began to sway with the music. "Be My Baby" by the Ronettes The night we met I knew I needed you so And if I had the chance I'd never let you go So won't you say you love me I'll make you so proud of me We'll make 'em turn their heads Every place we go So won't you please Be my, be my Be my little baby My one and only baby Say you'll be my darling Be my baby now My one and only baby I'll make you happy, baby Just wait and see For every kiss you give me I'll give you three Oh, since the day I saw you I have been waiting for you You know I will adore you Till eternity so won't you please Be my, be my Be my little baby My one and only baby Say you'll be my darling Be my baby now My one and only baby Comments are appreciated. bccccand@netscape.net