Date: Wed, 23 May 2007 23:49:38 -0300
From: Duncan Ryder <duncanryder@hotmail.com>
Subject: Everybody's Wounded    Chapter 1

This is a work of fiction. The characters exist only in the author's
imagination.  This is a gay love story and contains explicit descriptions
of sex between consenting men; if this offends you, is illegal where you
are, or you are too young, then you shouldn't read it.

This is my first attempt at this kind of story, and I'd welcome feedback.

duncanryder@hotmail.com

Everybody's Wounded

Chapter 1


They call it the Thanksgiving Turkey Dump.  That glorious fall ritual when
college freshmen return home for the first time to shed their high school
sweethearts, leaving behind broken hearts and guilty consciences, and
returning to their new campus liaisons with an incredible lightness of
being.  Last year, my senior year of high school, I'd watched some friends
come back and do it, and comforted others to whom it had been done.  This
year, I'd listened to a number of my new college buds agonize over how they
were going to do it themselves.

I was so thankful that David and I would not be victims.

And I was so proud of myself.  Through those first glorious weeks of
freedom, a thousand miles from home, I'd resisted every temptation and
stayed true to my beloved boy.  I was going home to him, and I could hardly
wait. Email and instant messaging were god sends...but virtual sex could
only carry you for so long.  Heck, even that had faded the last couple of
weeks.  David and I weren't so good long distance.  We needed to be
together.

And there had been temptations.  The gay community on campus was well
established -- one reason I'd chosen to come here -- and there was an air of
freedom and possibility that I'd never felt before.

Not that I'd had all that hard a time in high school -- I always knew I was
gay, and by the time I hit puberty I think my parents had kind of figured
it out too.  Or maybe my uncle Ben had warned them.  Ben's the youngest of
my Mom's four brothers, and he and his partner Ryan have been like second
parents to me and my older sister Emily our whole lives. I was fourteen
when I told my family I was gay, and no one seemed shocked or surprised. I
didn't come out at school until a few years later, after David arrived.
That was a little tougher, but not terrible.  There were times when I felt
the censure, from some kids and even from a few teachers, but it wasn't
often spoken, at least not in my presence.  I suspect the fact that I'm
six-foot-four and on both the football and hockey teams kind of kept a lid
on anything overt.

David suffered a lot more.  He told me once that he'd been picked on ever
since he could remember. David's small and slight and pretty, and, well,
kind of effeminate I guess.  It's not something he does in any deliberate
way, like a campy routine or whatever.  It's just what he is.  He's
incredibly sweet and kind hearted, despite the abuse that he's taken over
the years.  And he's a really talented artist and photographer.  But he is
kinda stereotypical.  I think he'd find it pretty much impossible to
convince someone he isn't gay.

His family moved to town the summer before my senior year.  As soon as
school started, guys started picking on him.  I was pretty oblivious to it
-- he's a year younger than me, so we had no classes together -- until the
camera club had him take pictures at a football game against our major
rival. The pictures were awesome; a spectacular one of me lofting a pass
just as I was about to be tackled made the front page of the sports section
of the local paper.  All the guys on the team were jazzed, and told the
coach they wanted to meet the photographer.

Mistake.

The talk started in the locker room right away.  Fuckin' fag this.  Fuckin'
queer that. I don't do homophobia well.  I mean, my uncles are the most
important people in my life after my parents and my sister.  Even though I
didn't know David at that point, I wasn't going to listen to it.  I decided
the way to put a stop it was to come out myself.

To say the guys were shocked is the understatement of the millennium.  But
in the end they were pretty ok.  I guess they had to be.  I mean, most of
them had known me my whole life.  And they'd met my uncles as well, since
Ben and Ry were huge sports fans and came to a lot of our games.

The guys stopped talking shit about David, at least in my presence.  And
when he and I became a couple a few months later, well, it just wasn't
something they talked about at all. I guess they knew, I mean, it wasn't a
secret.  But I kept my jock life totally separate from my life with David
and the small but loyal circle of artsy friends he gathered around himself.
Hell, David's friends probably found our relationship just as freaky as my
jock buddies did, but they were a lot more open minded about it.

Anyway, the level of acceptance at home was endurable, at least for me.
But it was nothing like the community I found at college.  Here it's just
so totally ok to be out.  And in addition to being welcome in the broad
college community, there was also every social venue imaginable for those
of us who are "gay, straight, bi, transgendered or two- spirited" -- or just
plain curious or confused!  Heck there are three gay guys and a lesbian
couple on my floor in residence.

It was even ok to be out and a varsity athlete.  Not that I'd intended to
be one -- I didn't come here to play hockey or football. I actually have an
academic scholarship; I never had any aspirations about college sports
beyond house league.  I mean, I was a decent defenseman and a second string
quarterback -- but I don't have any illusions of serious talent.  I just
love sports, and I'm big enough and fast enough that I'm good at a lot of
them.  The college's football and hockey teams were both, quite honestly,
way out of my league.  But it turned out they had started up a pretty
decent rugby team.  A lot fewer guys go out for rugby, which is a shame
because it's a great sport.  Anyway, it turned out they could really use a
big guy like me, and I was thrilled to make the team.  So being out AND a
varsity athlete -- well, let's just say there was a lot of temptation.  I
could have had a lot of guys if I wanted.  And man, there had been nights,
especially these last couple of weeks, when David had seemed so far away,
that I almost wanted.  But I didn't.  And now we would be together for
three days and it was going to be fucking fantastic.

***

Canadian Thanksgiving is the second Monday in October, when the maples are
brilliant red and the very last of the year's warmth still lurks in sunny
afternoons.  It's not the big deal that American Thanksgiving is, but it is
traditional for freshmen to head home for the long weekend if it's at all
possible.  My two Friday seminars were cancelled, which meant I could head
out Thursday afternoon.  I even had company on my flight to Toronto -- Josh
Templeton, a cute guy I knew from the Friday-night Rainbow pubs.  He's a
grad student, working on his masters in economics. Smart as hell, and good
looking in a very conservative, economics kind of way, with black hair,
green eyes, and a tidy preppy style that made a lot of hearts thump.  He'd
kind of tried to pick me up the first time I met him, but when I told him I
wasn't interested, he said that was cool and backed right off.  We'd been
friendly ever since.

"So Big Guy," he said, as we stood in line waiting to check in. "I assume
you want the aisle."

"If it's ok," I smiled gratefully.  Josh is tall, but it's not just a
matter of leg length.  His lean runner's build would fit a lot more easily
into a window seat than my big boned, heavily muscled frame.  Heck, I was
big when I left home, but after seven weeks training with the college rugby
team, I'd added 10 pounds of muscle.  "We can switch part way, if you get
too cramped up."

 "So," he said, when we settled into our seats. "What's the first thing
you're gonna do when you get back?"

"Get laid," I laughed.  "Seven weeks is a long time."

"Ah," he said slowly.  "So that explains it."

"Explains what?" I asked.

"Why you've been saving yourself, man.  Geez, I'm not the only one who was
interested, you know.  Every second guy at Rainbow's been trying to get
your attention since day one.  Haven't you noticed?"

I laughed.  "All my attention's well and truly taken."

"So tell me about him, then.  What kind of guy can keep a stud like you on
the straight and narrow -- well, queer and narrow -- from half way across
the country?"

So I told him about David.  I even pulled out my laptop and showed him some
pictures.  He told me about his high school boyfriend, Michael, who had
gone to school in the States on a soccer scholarship.  They hadn't
officially broken up when they went off to college, but had agreed to an
"open" relationships because of the distance.  Eventually they'd just kind
of drifted apart.  Josh didn't say anything about any more recent
relationships.  He seemed happy enough with casual hookups.

"I can't image that," I said.  "David and I have been together eight
months, and neither of us would ever dream of seeing someone else."

"Not even to play together?" he asked, cocking an expressive eyebrow.

"Hardly!"  I tried to sound worldly, but even I could hear the shock in my
voice.

Josh started to laugh.  "Wow," he said knowingly.  "Something I never
thought I'd see."

"What?"

"A hot stud jock who's an incurable romantic!"

***

We got into Toronto at four; Josh and I pre-booked our return seats
together and arranged to meet in the departure lounge Monday afternoon for
the flight back.  His luggage came off first, so he headed off while I
waited for mine.  Then finally I was through, and scanning the crowd for
David.

I saw him first, through the glass walls from the baggage carousels.  It
took me a while to pick him out, which surprised me.  David excited is
pretty hard to miss.  But when I finally spotted him, he was standing
quietly to the right of the exit. He wasn't even looking for me.  His head
was bowed and he was chewing anxiously on his bottom lip.  I found myself
wondering if something could be wrong. But when I finally reached him, he
looked up at me and smiled and everything was ok.  I just sighed in relief,
and pulled him into my arms.  I didn't care who was watching.  To my
surprise, he stiffened a bit, before relaxing and slipping his arms around
my waist.

"Scottie," he said, with a sigh, and I felt myself relax.  I knew that
sigh, and for the first time since I'd seen him through the window, I felt
I was really home.

"God, babe," I said.  "I missed you so much."

Then I held him away from me. "Hey, I like the hair."

"Really?"

"Yeah."  ..

It was longer, and he'd had white blonde streaks put in it, lightening up
his natural golden colour.  Not something it would ever have occurred to
me, but it suited him.  And that wasn't the only change.  He'd had his ears
pierced.  Both of them.  There were steel rings in each lobe, and a stud
through the upper part of his right ear.  I didn't know what to say about
it, but he saw me looking and started chewing his lower lip again.

I leaned over and stuck my tongue in his ear. "Nipples too?" I asked, and
laughed at how shocked he looked.

He had his Dad's car, and I expected us to head north, to the suburb where
we lived.  Instead he headed down town.

"Where we going, babe?"

"Ben and Ry's," he said.  "They've asked us for dinner.  I thought we could
stay there tonight, and head home tomorrow morning."

I laughed.  What a plan.  My uncles could be counted on to give us their
guest room and make themselves scarce.

 "They out for the evening?"

"No," said David to my surprise.  He was concentrating on the rush hour
traffic.  "They'll be home for dinner."

***

When Ben and Ry bought it twenty years ago, their fabulous 19th century
Victorian at the edge of Toronto's "Gay Village" was a vermin-infested
boarding house.  Ry's an architect, and Ben's a contractor, and restoring
it was their first major project. It won awards and got featured in some
magazine spreads -- they have the pictures framed in one of the guest rooms
-- and that was the beginning of their success.

I love it there; it's been like a second home to me since I was kid.  I
used my key to let us in, and pulled David in behind me, practically
dragging him up the stairs to the second floor guest room that I thought of
as mine.

"Scottie, wait," said David breathlessly as I pulled him down the hall, but
I wasn't really listening.  I couldn't wait.  All I could think of was how
much I wanted him, needed him.  Now.  Seven weeks is more than a long time.
It's fucking forever, especially when you're surrounded by hot guys and
have to settle for nothing but your hand for company.

I practically dragged him into the room, kicking the door shut.

 "God, David, I missed you," I said, lying him down on the bed and
stretching out on top of him.  I was careful, taking most of my weight on
my knees and elbows.  David's so much smaller than me that being careful
with him has become second nature.  I kissed him slowly, teasing his mouth
with my tongue, grinding my hard on against his.

Through the haze of wanting him, it took a few minutes before I realized
that he was lying perfectly still beneath me.  He'd let my tongue into his
mouth, but there were no returning thrusts.  Normally, David is absolutely
wild in bed, clutching and rubbing against me, fierce and fearless, letting
me know with every incredible movement and gesture exactly what he wants
from me, what he needs.  This kind of passivity was not David.  It was like
a wall.

I half slid off him, propped myself up on my elbow, and looked down into
his face.

"David?"

There were tears in his eyes, and stupid fuck that I am, I totally
misinterpreted them.

"It's ok babe," I said, leaning over and kissing him, slowly, licking his
jaw from beneath his ear to his chin.  "I know it's been a long time, but
I'm back now.  We've got the whole weekend."

I reached for the front of his jeans, which strained against his hard dick.
He grabbed at my wrist. "Stop, Scottie," he said, with a strangled little
cry. "Please. Stop."

Stop?

He couldn't have made me stop. Fuck, I'm twice David's size, and there was
nothing he could have done to make me.  But at that whispered little
command I froze, and let him push my hand away.

"This is so hard," he said.

And then it all made sense and I knew.  I just knew.  The changes in his
messages these last few weeks.  The hair. The piercings.  His stillness and
passivity.  I rolled completely off him, onto my back and stared up at the
ceiling.  Neither of us said anything for a long time.

"So it's over." I said finally.  "That's what you're trying to tell me,
isn't it?"

"I'm so sorry, Scottie," he said.  And then he rolled towards me, put his
head on my chest and his arm around my waist, and cried.

I guess I should have known that David and I couldn't make it long
distance.  He needs a lot of attention, a lot of physical presence.  How
could I not have realized that there were other guys willing to give him
that?

It turned out that he'd been with someone else for the last three
weeks. Alex Burton.  Short, stocky guy, a bear in the making. Wanted to be
a screen writer.  I hadn't even realized he was gay, let along that he'd
been in love with David the entire time David and I had been together. I
felt like I'd been sucker punched.

He cried the whole time he was telling me, his body stretched out on top of
mine, his arms around my neck.  My shirt was soaking wet.  I just held him
til he went quiet.  There didn't seem to be much else to do.

Then I felt a heat in my cock and realized he was caressing me through my
jeans.  I grabbed his wrist.

"What are you doing?"  I asked, my voice breaking.

He looked down at his hand for a long moment, and then I heard him sob.  He
let go of my cock and raised his hand to my face. I closed my eyes, felt
tears oozing out from beneath my eyelids, sliding down my cheeks, and then
the heat of his tongue licking them away.

 "It's goodbye sex, Scottie," he whispered, dropping small, soft kisses
along my cheekbone, over my ear.  The smell of him made me tremble. The
touch of his tongue, and his hot, hot breath made me weep.

"I love you," he said.  "I'll always love you.  But you gotta know that I
can't wait for you.  I can't be alone. I need to be with someone.  I'm not
like you.  I need someone who can take care of me.  Someone who'll help me
be stronger.  That's why I'm with Alex, babe.  I need him.  I need someone
to be there for me.  Every day. I can't make it on my own.  Maybe someday,
but not now.  Not yet."

I wish I could say that I was a man about it, that I was able to just kiss
him goodbye and wish him well.  I didn't.  I couldn't.  It was like I just
didn't have the strength.  I just lay there with tears leaking out from
under my eyelids and let him do what he wanted, freezing every movement in
my memory.  His fingers, unbuttoning my shirt, unzipping my pants, reaching
in and freeing my hard, hard cock. His beautiful mouth, trailing hot
kisses, daring little licks and sucks, going down, over my jaw, my neck,
slowly down my chest, pausing at nipples, belly, navel, and finally,
finally, taking my cock into his mouth.  For the last time, I buried my
fingers in his soft, silky hair and wept while he sucked me dry in a final
heartbreaking goodbye.

***

I don't know how long he'd been gone when I heard a knock on the door and
Ben calling out to me softly.

"Scott?  Is it ok if I come in?"

I didn't answer, and he came in anyway.  I was lying exactly as David had
left me, flat on my back, half naked with my pants open and my cock limp
against my thigh.  Ben lay down beside me, reaching his arm around me and
pulled me to him. At first I resisted, then I didn't.  I let him pull me
into his arms, my head on his chest, and he rubbed my back in great warm
circles, just as he had when I was a small child.