Date: Sun, 3 Sep 2006 21:11:22 -0700 (PDT)
From: John Gerald <connectwriter@yahoo.com>
Subject: Connections 11

Thanks once again for reading the story.  It's always great to here your
comments, so please feel free to drop me a line.  I'll be back with the
next installment in 3 weeks.



When the guys got back to school after the weekend with Mike's parents,
there was a mountain of work waiting for them.  Not only had they committed
themselves to going to grad school together, with applications being due in
about 6 months, but they needed to think about summer jobs, too.  And they
each had to continue their solid academic records and finish the semester
strong if they were even going to get close to the schools that they
aspired to.

They had spent the entire ride back from Mike's parents place just talking
about what went on the past weekend, celebrating a huge milestone in their
relationship. But as real life doesn't allow one to wallow in success too
long, they each acknowledged the urgency of moving on with the other
aspects of their lives and got back to work.

"How are we going to handle this summer, Pup? I mean what are we going to
do, job-wise?  Brad asked, as they sat down to dinner the day after
returning.  Back in the full swing of school, they hadn't seen each other
all day.

"There's a couple of places up in the city, not far from my folks place,
that I'd like to apply to, but that assumes that you'll be up there, too."
Mike replied as he split some spaghetti between Brads plate and his.

"You think your parent's would be OK with me being up there for the
summer. You think it's going to be too much, maybe too soon.  I don't want
them to overdose on me, you know."  He reached over and took some of the
pasta off of Mikes plate and replaced it with some steamed broccoli.

Mike just let out a sigh, and then give Brad a slight smile.

After he swallowed his first forkful of the dinner a little bit of the
carbonara sauce spilling on his chin as he answered Brad.  "Honestly, babe,
I think they'd love to have you.  Plus, I think that they're getting the
idea that we come as a package.  So I think that we could just plan that
way.  As long as we avoid sex in the living room, or on the dining room
table, I think we're OK. "  He chuckled and then wiped the sauce off of his
face.

"Do you want to get a law firm job again?  What do you want to try to do?

Brad went back to Mikes earlier comment for a moment.  "No sex in the
living room? Hmmm...I'll have to think about this." He bit his lip
self-consciously, smiling.

"Anyway," he said, continuing. "I've read some stuff on these law schools,
and I think that you have to look a little off-beat to them, not just a
conventional person.  I don't know exactly what I want to do right now, but
however interesting the job might sound to the admissions committee, I need
to get paid.  I can't volunteer for the resume building stuff, at least
during the workday, so I need to look around."

As he was speaking, Mike had gotten up to get some milk from the fridge,
then poured a glass for each of them.

Brad accepted the milk as he continued.  "I'd like to do something with
sports, or something related to the law.  If there was some combo that
would be great, though in our area I don't know what that would be.  I'll
check Craigslist or something like that tonight and get started on it.
It's only a month or so off.  I'll start asking around, too, maybe talk to
my adviser."  He put down his glass and put some more of the vegetable on
Mike's plate.

"Are the kinds of firms that you're looking at downtown.?"  he asked Mike.

"Yea, I think all of them are.  Oh,..." he said as he just recalled one
other avenue.  "One of my profs knows some people up there and has offered
to make some contacts, which is really nice of him.  There are a couple big
corporate architecture firms that would look good on my resume, but there's
one more design-oriented firm that I'd really like to work for.  In fact, I
heard one of the partners is gay.  I'd like to check them out."

"You heard one of the partners is gay?"

"Yea, Todd told me.  Boy, that guy exploded from of the closet when he came
out, and seems to know everybody," he said, remarking admirably on Todd's
accomplishment.  "I think this guy went to Princeton or Yale or one of
those places, too, so wouldn't be a bad guy to meet if I want to try for
one of those grad schools.

Brad wanted to encourage him along on this.  Mike's options were probably
more limited than his in terms of location, so he would do all he could to
support it.  "If you think you'll be downtown, then I'll try to find
something around there too.  We could have lunch together.  Maybe sneak off
to a public restroom and have sex."

Mike gave him a dreamy, hazy look.  "You're so romantic.  And classy, too!
You know, there's a nice steak restaurant over on East 9th.  I've always
wanted to give a blowjob in their bathroom.  Especially during lunch when
it's crowded."

Brad just laughed, but then got the conversation back on track. "well, I'll
start checking after we get done studying tonight.  We need to get this
school stuff going, too.  Damn, where going to be busy the next few weeks."

At the same time as they were carrying on the normal studying for classes
and finals, they were also looking for summer jobs and getting ready to
prepare for grad school applications.  Brad was especially concerned, as
his test would take a lot of preparation, and 6 months was not a lot of
time for what had to be done.  And they still wanted to keep up their time
in the gym, especially Brad with his intramural involvement.

Mike was able to line up a couple of interviews with firms he was
interested in, plus what he called his back-up firms.  Things were
generally busy in their rust-belt area, at least compared to the recent
past, so there were definitely some opportunities out there.  But there was
a lot of competition also, so he knew if would be tough to get what he
really wanted.

He had worked construction jobs his previous summers, and had done a 6 week
internship in a small office as part of his school curriculum, but this
would be his first bona-fide office job for a real paycheck.  He was
nervous and excited at the same time, thinking this is the real start of
his career, while at the same time anxious about doing well, both for
himself and for Brad and their plans.

Since the downtown area of the city was more than an hour away from campus,
he tried to line the interviews up all on a Monday, when he didn't have
classes and could save himself a lot of back-and-forth trips.  He could
even drop by his parents place if he had to make a pit stop, and maybe play
with Tony to relieve some stress, but in any case it would be a brutal
day. The interviews were scheduled for 8:30, 11:30, and 3:00.  He'd have to
be "ON" all the time.

Brad had made him a full breakfast to prepare for the interview marathon,
and even wrapped a sandwich for him.  He was just about to leave for the
first interview when Brad snuck up from behind and wrapped him in a big
bear hug.

"You OK, pup?"

Mike just stood there for a moment, silent, feeling the squeeze.  "Yea, I
think so. I'm nervous, but I've got to do this and get through it."  He
rolled his head back, rubbing it against Brad.  "Thanks for breakfast,
babe."

"Glad, too.  Call me if you need to talk, OK?

"OK" Brad released his grip and they kissed, and Mike was off.

Brad himself was swamped with things to do all day, also, but couldn't stop
thinking of Mike, and worrying about him.  Outside of this continuous, but
low-grade, anxiety about Mike's epilepsy, he know that this trip meant a
lot to him.  Mike had told Brad not to worry about him, but of course there
was no way he could avoid that.

As it got late in the afternoon, he got up from studying every few minutes
and looked out the window, hoping to see Mike pulling in.  Finally hearing
his car at about 6:30, he opened the door to his worn out partner.  As soon
as he walked in the door he collapsed into Brad's arms, half playfully and
half seriously,

"Did they beat you up Pup? You OK?  Brad said as he embraced him, rocking
him slowly as Mike quietly kicked off his shoes.

"They're animals, all of them."  He sighed but smiled.  "Can't I just be a
kept boy?"

Brad just laughed, moving his right hand to Mikes' head and stroking it.
"Just get cleaned up and you can tell me all about it.  Dinner's almost
ready."  With that, he gently pushed Mike away and launched him stumbling
toward the bathroom, then went into the kitchen to retrieve dinner.

As Mike walked down the hall to change his clothes, Brad yelled to him,
"The position of kept boy is no longer available," and just heard a laugh
in return.

When Mike was done with his shower, he snuck up behind Brad, who was just
putting some fancy hamburgers on buns. Minimal sweet condiments, for Mike,
but he was allowed as much cheese as he wanted.  Putting his hands on Brads
waist, he gently stroked up and down his back, drilling his knuckles in for
an impromptu vertical massage.

"Your day go OK, babe? Did you get a lot done?"  Though the interviews were
a milestone for him, Brad had a life, too.  He didn't forget that.

"Yea, it went OK, I did get a lot done.  Missed you, though."  He said as
he picked up the serving plate to move it over to the table.  "You had the
big day, though.  Sit down and tell me how it went."

"Well," Mike said, as he finally got into this chair, "It was actually
pretty good.  I hope an offer or two comes out it.  If nothing else, it's
good practice, but I really do need a good job."

He continued.  "The corporate firms did some nice work, but were pretty
stuffy.  The guys there even wore ties.  The were mostly interested in my
technical skills, which is understandable, of course.  I'm there to work.
But..."  Mike took a bite of his burger.  "By the way, this is really
good.  Thanks, babe."  He said to Brad as he reached over and gave him a
light punch to the arm.

"No problem.  Tell me more.  I'll bet it get more interesting."  He grabbed
Mike's fist in his hand and squeezed as he pushed back at him.

"Well, I guess you could say `interesting.'  I didn't really think about
this one thing until the last firm, that design firm with the gay partner I
was telling you about."  He said as he put down his burger.

"You know, they were actually the only ones to ask me what I wanted to get
out of the summer.  The other guys, they were real polite and professional
and all that, but it was all about how big they were, what prestigious
clients they had, all that kind of stuff, how hard they worked, all that."

"The guy who interviewed me, who I think was a project manager and not a
designer, didn't seem focused on the same kind of stuff.  When he talked
about the firm, it was a lot about the character and culture and stuff like
that."

"There first question to me was `why do you want to be an Architect?"  I
think I had a good answer, well, at least an answer that meant something to
me.  But just the fact that they asked made me feel pretty good about
them."

Mike continued, and his enthusiasm was evident to Brad.  "They had some
really nice work, too.  You know, I just need a job, the more money the
better, but I really hope they offer me something. I think I'd really like
it there."

"That's great!"  Brad said.  I'm glad you found a place that you really
like.  Now, you just need to get in the door.  So, what happens next?"

"Well, I left some copies of work and resumes behind at each place.  All of
them said that they were going to make decisions in the next week or so on
summer help, so I guess I should just cross my fingers."  He took another
bite of his hamburger, and looked up again at Brad.  "wow, this really is
good.  What did you put in it.?

Brad smiled.  "Fresh semen.  I thought you'd like it."

Mike just about spit out his food with that thought.  He was too stunned to
come up with a retort quick enough, so just coughed to clear his throat and
smirked up at Brad.

Satisfied with his brief victory in the humor wars, Brad brought the
conversation back on track again.  "We'll both keep our fingers crossed. I
hope that the one place comes through for you, but like you said, any would
do."

"So what are you thinking about now? Mike asked, turning the spotlight on
Brad.  "Anything interest you on the job front.?"

They're a couple of things that look kind of fun, but I don't know how
they'll look on the resume.  One is a groundskeeper job at the community
college up there near your folks. I could work on my tan, but it would
probably look like I'm goofing off for the summer."

Mike agreed.  "It's too bad, because that could be fun, and you actually
could learn a lot, working with different types of people.  But these
schools seem so credential conscious, I'm not sure that they would
appreciate what you could get out of a job like that."

"I know, it's too bad.  But there are some other things out there that
could be fun and interesting and look good to law school, too.  One is a
working as an assistant clerk in an emergency room.  Could be pretty
distinctive on a resume but stressful, too.  I guess blood doesn't scare
me, but seeing people all stressed out could be tough."

Mike immediately agreed that it would be a good credential for him, but he
was worried for the same reason.  He had been in the emergency room a lot
growing up, especially when he had his really bad seizures as a child, and
was now stranger to what could happen there.  And Brad could be especially
vulnerable.  Empathy for others was one of his strengths, and was one of
Brad's qualities that he thought most highly off.  But that could be a
weakness in a place like this, where you sometimes have to turn off your
emotions in order to the very best you can at the job.  But turning off
emotions was not something that Brad could do easily, if at all.

"How did you find out about it?"  Mike asked.

"My advisor's sister is a nurse there, and they need administrative help
for the summer, what with vacations and all.  and he thought it might look
good on the law school application.  It's not real serious stuff, anyway,
just supporting the people who actually do the real work."  Brad said,
trying to convince himself that he could avoid the worst crisis situations.

"And besides," Brad continued, finishing off his spaghetti and then looking
up. "It's at Charity Hospital, downtown, and not far from where you're
likely to be, at least if you get one of those jobs you interviewed for
today.  If the hours worked out, we could even take the bus in together."

Mike got up and started picking up the plates.  There was still a lot to
talk about, but they also both had to get back to studying for an hour or
so before Brad would make him go to bed, since he had to get up for an
early class. "Gosh that sounds great, but I don't want to dream about it
yet.  I feel like I might jinx it if I hope too much.  I'll just cross my
fingers and hope for the best, for both of us."

"Yea, I know what you mean, me too.  Let's just see where it all goes."
Brad helped mike put away the dishes as they both got ready to finish off
their studying for the night.

It was pretty obvious to Brad that Mike had been real stressed all day, so
he thought he'd just play it by ear regarding sex.  He'd see where Mike
wanted to go.  And where he wanted to go was to just snuggle up against
Brad.

They both seemed to drift to sleep quickly.  But Brad woke up early in the
morning, while it was still dark.  He looked over at the luminous dial on
the clock and it was almost 2:30.

He thought that he just woke up on his own, which he sometimes did, until
he felt Mike rustling on the bed.  Mike normally moved around a lot when he
slept, so Brad generally tried to give him a wide berth.  Even though they
often fell asleep touching in some way, Mike would invariably move away at
night as he continuously rolled and changed position.

There was something different about Mike's moving around right now, though,
Brad thought.  Being dark, he couldn't see Mike well, but he felt the
commotion, the very jerky and almost spastic movements that were coming
from the other side of the bed.

Suddenly, Brad could almost feel the air from Mikes hands flailing in the
air. Something was happening to Mike.  It didn't seem like a seizure,
though. It was more like a nightmare, as he could hear Mike mumbling
things.  It sounded like Czech, but he wasn't sure.  But what he was
getting sure of was that he better try to wake Mike up quickly.

Just when he was about to reach over and wake him, he heard Mike cry out as
the bed shook violently.

"I'm not a freak!  I'm not a freak!"

Brad was just about to grab him, to try to shake him awake, when one of
Mike's flailing arms smacked him right on the mouth.  It stung, but Brad
didn't flinch.  Mike was in trouble and he had to do what he could to get
him out of this nightmare as he firmly but gently grasped Mike by the
shoulders and tried to shake him awake.

Mike had definitely gotten stronger since he started working out, though
Brad could still get the better of him when they wrestled.  But it took
everything he had. Forcing Mikes arms out of the way, he grabbed his
shoulders and shook him.

"Mike! Wake up!  It's me, Brad! I'm here! I'm here!  Wake up!"  he
continued to shake Mike and yell at him.  After just a few moments, Mike's
spasms stopped and he started to wake up.

"uh, Brad.  Uh, oh, my gosh, what's going on?"  He was totally confused,
being pulled out of unconsciousness and feeling Brad's hands on his
shoulders.

"Pup! You OK?  You were having a nightmare.  Are you all right?"

"Oh God, did I wake you up?  I'm so sorry.  Yea, I think I just had a
nightmare.  I can't remember much of it, but it was rally bad."  Mike was
still dazed, but was starting to realize what had happened, as his pillows
were on the floor, along with half of the blanket.

"Yea, but don't worry about it. You OK? You feel alright?

"um..."  Mike paused and felt his head, though Brad could barely see this
in the dark.  "Yea, I think so.  Let me get my bearings here for a second.
Could you turn on the light."

Brad reached over and flipped the switch on the nightstand, and suddenly
they could see each other.

Mike looked at Brad and gasped.

"Oh God, Brad..." Mike turned white.

"What? What's wrong?"  Brad said, confused.  Suddenly, he remembered how
Mike had hit him in the mouth, as he felt the throbbing and sting in his
lip.

Mike looked at him, speechless, with his mouth open.  He looked like he was
about to cry.

Brad immediately knew what he was thinking.  Mike's greatest fear was that
he would hurt Brad during a seizure and, sure enough, it happened, though
not exactly the way he thought.. Instantly, Brad grabbed Mike and pulled
him against him, holding him tightly there, even though Mike tried to pull
away.

"I know what your thinking, and don't even go there for a second."  Brad
whispered softly in his ear, knowing how urgent it was to calm Mike down,
but also knowing he had to take it slowly.

He gently stoked his back, tenderly stroking the tense muscles "I'm fine,
and I'll be OK.  We both knew this kind of thing might happen, but you
can't control it Mike. It's not your fault and there's nothing you could do
about it."

Mike was starting to sob.  "I was so afraid I'd hurt you some day and I
did.  Oh god, I feel like a monster.  Brad I'm so sorry, I'm so
sorry!....."

"Hey!"  Brad yelled at him, which startled Mike. He gently pushed him away,
then grabbed his chin and forced Mike to look into his eyes.

"Look at me!"  he ordered, as Mike struggled to look back at him.

"Mike Kovar.  Don't ever apologize to me about something you can't control.
It's no ones fault.  It's just what happens, and it won't be the last time.
So don't let it upset you."  It looked to him like Mike was starting to
calm down.

"Now, if you would you tell me about the dream. It got you real upset.  I
need to know about it"

Mike couldn't usually remember his dreams, even just after waking, but he
thought it was something about having a seizure and people not
understanding what was happening.  He said never had a dream like this
before.

" I wonder why you have a dream like this now.  It's like an old fear that
you kept suppressed, and now it's finally gotten out."  Brad said.

Mike was again silent for a moment.  Then reached over and put his arms on
Brad's shoulders.  He was surprised how tired his arms were.  He must have
jerked around quite a bit during the nightmare.

"I'm not sure, but I have one theory."

"What's that?"

"um..."  Mike got a little shy and looked away for a moment.  "All this
time since that seizure at Jesuit, I've kind of kept a lot of memories of
that stuff covered up.  It was pretty bad at the time, and I guess it was
my way of handling it.  Just bury it, push it away, ignore it."  He looked
away for a moment.  "I just couldn't deal with it.  It was too much."

"What's different know?"  Brad asked, innocently.

"What's different know?  Mike just looked at him.

"You're the difference, Brad.  You've changed everything.  I guess with you
in my life I feel, as least subconsciously, strong enough to face this
stuff and finally deal with it.  Not that It isn't tough, but I feel like I
can think about, about what it has meant to me.  Maybe now I can finally
move on."

Pulling Brad close, he rubbed their cheeks together.  "Thank you."

Brad let out a breath of air, returning the affection as they continued to
hold each other until Brad pulled away again and got a mischievous look on
his face.

"I've been thinking about what I'm going to tell people, how I got this
busted lip."

He saw Mike look down, still embarrassed and ashamed, even though Brad's
reassurances had taken away the worst of the pain.

"I think I'll tell them that your sausage wasn't hot, and you hate cold
sausage, so ya popped me."  Brad said, smiling.

"oh...uh."  Mike could hardly bring himself to joke about it. Not so much
his own embarrassment, but just that it had to do with Mike getting hurt.
It was one place he didn't want to go with humor.  But it was also clear
that this was how Brad wanted him to get over this episode.

"um...I was thinking that it was because you wouldn't put out when I was
horny.  Try telling people that one," he said, finally managing a smile.

"Ha!" he responded, diving at Mike and pulling his shirt up."  They'll
never believe that one, not after this."

In a second, their hands were all over each other, as they merged into a
single ball of squirming, writhing flesh.  It wasn't exactly the therapy
that a professional would prescribe, but it worked for the them.