Date: Thu, 18 Sep 2003 01:09:20 -0700 (PDT)
From: Michael Garrison <mng1114@yahoo.com>
Subject: Two Lives - Two Loves: Chapter 11

This story is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to actual
events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.  This story also deals with love and
consensual sexual activities between men.  If you are not of
legal age, reside in an area where viewing such material is
illegal, or are offended by such themes, do not read further
and leave this site now.

The author retains all rights to this story.  Reproductions
or links to other sites are not allowed without the
permission of the author.


Two Lives - Two Loves


Chapter 11


Knowing what was coming...sorry, no pun intended...in no way
lessened my enjoyment of our time together that afternoon.
Make no mistake, however...Doing it in front of a camera still
felt weird, even if we were totally alone.  In what I'd soon
come to understand was a very real sense, we'd already done
it for the camera in that strange double dream, but that in
no way eased my oddly prudish sensibilities.  Man...what a
mind-fuck that dream was!  In an odd way, though, I was
finding that the dreams actually helped to give me a greater
appreciation for the real, for the here and the now.  They
helped to give me a greater appreciation of Jon and the
simple state of just being together, of the simple act of
making love with my best friend.  After one of those dreams,
I wanted nothing more in the world than to hold him tight,
to be held tightly by him and to convince myself that those
dreams were just my imagination screwing with me.

In the few days since Jon and I had crossed that threshold
from being just best friends to being lovers, it felt like a
lot of ground had been crossed and it seemed like we were
almost living a lifetime together in those few days.  From
my perspective, at least, there was a growing intensity to
our couplings that...I dunno; I'd never experienced anything
like it before and I can't really describe it except to say
that I was finding that there was an all too brief moment
when, as our bodies were flooded with those wonderful
endorphins, we were like one person.  Increasingly, it was
like our flesh and blood bodies did not exist at that
singular, electrical moment and that whatever ethereal thing
it is that defines us as two, blended to make us one.  I
know that sounds just way too dorky to be believed but I
don't know how else to put it.  I was finding myself wishing
I could just lose myself in that moment with Jon forever,
hanging motionless with him, as if in soothingly warm mid-
air, as everything about us locked together, making us one
completely whole, completely satisfied being.

"Thank you," I whispered in Jon's ear as he lay with his
head in my neck, his hot breath warming me.

"You're welcome," he whispered back as he stretched, softly
groaning with intense satisfaction as he slowly engulfed me
further in his arms, sliding easily across his still warm
discharge there between us.

I closed my eyes and just held him for a few wonderful
moments, savoring that warm lingering afterglow, caressing
his back as his legs stretched out slowly and curled around
mine.  It would be just then that my stomach let out a long,
very noticeable growl.  Jon snickered.  We both did.

"Yeah, I'm starting to get hungry, too," he said as he
pushed himself up.

"Let's get a shower and get you started on dinner," I said.
"I'm feeling like grilled pork chops tonight.  Whadda ya
think?" I drawled.

"I hope we have some.  We'll check it out."

"Cool," I said.  "...you can turn the camera off, too, stud."

The camera's disk had apparently filled some time ago and
had shut itself off.

                          *  *  *  *

We tried to make the shower short, both of us were getting
really hungry, but that didn't stop us from lingering under
the warm spray with our mouths locked together, our arms
draped around each other.  There was something just so
relaxing and incredibly hot about doing it in the shower,
the warm water cascading over us, allowing us to move easily
against each other.  And then my stomach decided to
intervene again with another loud growl.  With tongues still
probing, Jon's did the same and we couldn't keep from
chuckling.

"'Kay, dude," he said.  "We gotta hit the pause button.  I
think we've got about a half hour before we starve so we
need to get dinner going."

"'Kay, dude," I agreed mimicking him, grinning at his
smiling smirk in reply.

We dried each other as in my dream and as in my dream I
lingered over him a bit longer than really necessary,
teasing him.  He loved it, I know.  I did too, but our
stomachs were starting to get violent.  I tossed my towel
into a corner of the bath where a pile was developing that
wasn't getting any smaller.  Jon tossed his in as well.

"I don't suppose your uncle arranged for maid service, did
he?" I asked, cocking my thumb back towards the pile of damp
towels.

"You're lookin' at it," Jon said, pointing into the mirror
at the two of us standing there naked.

"Hmm...not exactly what I had in mind."

"Be brave, Big Boy," he said with whimsical sarcasm as he
pulled on his shorts, chuckling at his amusing little
alliteration.  "...we can handle it; we're grown now," he
added, putting a calming, and patronizingly humorous, hand
on my shoulder.  "We'll deal with it tomorrow...or
thereabouts."

We finished dressing and went down to the kitchen.  It
wasn't night yet but the whole downstairs was pretty dark.
We'd been upstairs so long that we hadn't noticed that the
light gray, overcast and rainy sky had turned into a really
dark gray, overcast and rainy sky.  Except for our footsteps
on the floorboards and the rugs, the place was as quiet and
dark as a tomb.  That unnerved me just a little and I wasted
no time in flicking on every light I passed by.  Jon hit the
kitchen first and swatted at the light switch, waking the
overhead lights from their slumber.  I grabbed for the
remote...ah, that was so much better...the comforting noise
and animation of the TV.

"'s'get that beer goin'!" I called in my thicker southern
accent, walking up behind Jon and playfully shaking him by
the shoulders.  "C'mon! c'mon!"  He just slowly turned and
glared at me with that hands-on-hips-disapproving-schoolmarm
kind of look.  I flashed my best smile at him just to let
him know I was only being a pain in the ass for the sake of
amusement.  It was a minor payback for the times he'd done
that sort of thing to me.

"Can you at least let me open the fridge first," he asked
slowly, a faint smile finally starting to cross his face.
He knew I didn't mean anything by it.

"No!" I mockingly whined.  "Beer me now!"

Jon began to laugh, "Beer you?"  I'd accomplished my mission
to pester the crap out of him until he laughed.  I abruptly
stopped the drama queen bit as he opened the door and handed
out an icy bottle.

We snapped off the tops and I flicked around the channels
until I found some innocuous offering on the Sci-Fi Channel.
It was some movie I'd never seen before and looked mildly
interesting but I was more interested in it just for the
background noise.  I hadn't grown up in an urban setting so
I really didn't have the exposure to the constant noise that
a lot of my city friends did, but I liked having background
noise around.  I got very edgy when things were too quiet.
Especially lately.

"We do have pork chops," Jon called from the fridge.  "You
wanna grill 'em?"

Remembering, I agreed and asked him to help me drag the
grill out of the rain under the patio awning.  As before, I
volunteered to get the grill going while he started prepping
the food.  And as before, when I went back in, there he was
with his little smile and his new dive knife strapped to his
leg, not looking at me but fighting back a smile as he
wondered whether I noticed his new toy.  And as before, he
looked too hot with it strapped to that tight leg of his and
I fawned all over him with compliments, which was an easy
task...even the second time around.  And as before, he smiled
and asked me to go get my dive knife so he could see how hot
I looked wearing it.  But this time...

"Can't, baby; I left it somewhere," I said.  "I was thinking
about getting a new one anyway when we go back to Dave's."

It was a total lie and Jon pouted a bit but I was in no
fucking mood to tempt fate by going back out to the carriage
house again only to find myself back in reruns of my own Sci-
Fi Original Series.  I soothed him a little, putting my
hands on his hips.  Resting my forehead on his, I assured
him that he looked hot enough for the both of us for now as
I let my hands slowly glide around to cup his ass.

"...but you'd better start doin' those chops before I start
doin' a rump roast, you know?"  I said.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, blushing slightly as he went back to
seasoning the meat.  I couldn't recall ever having seen him
blush before.  Captain Football Hero...blushing.  It was too
sickeningly cute for words.

Jon went out and inspected the grill, turning the fire up a
little.  He preferred a hot fire...claimed it seared the
juices in.  I wasn't so sure about that but I deferred; he
was a better cook than I was, that's for sure.  After a
couple of minutes, he brought out a plate with four huge
chops all spiced up with some green stuff and a couple of
big foil wrapped potatoes.  Placing it all carefully over
the fire and adjusting the height, he closed the grill and
let them go.

"Those chops were still kinda frozen.  I hope this works
out," he said.

"What's'at green shit?" I asked.

"That 'green shit', as you so delicately put it, is dill,"
he answered, just a touch offended.  I looked at him,
puzzled.  The only thing I knew about dill was pickles, and
Jon could tell.  "Trust me, you'll love it."

"I'll give it a shot," I shrugged indifferently as we stood
under the awning, drinking our beer and watching what little
light there was fade to black.  The rain just seemed as
steady as ever.  The ground was so soaked, we were starting
to get splattered and decided to go back in.

"Check out the Weather Channel," Jon said.  "This rain's
getting on my nerves."

I flicked over.  In a few minutes, 'Local on the 8's' came
up and confirmed our fears:  Rain, more rain and nothing but
the rain for probably three days running.

"Shit," I sighed, switching back to the background noise.
"I think we've wasted our money on the dive gear this week."

"Hmm," Jon harrumphed.  "I was looking forward to that,
too."

"That's not gonna make Ron real happy, either."

"Yeah, he really sounded up for it.  I guess we're just
gonna have to wait to see how his taste in swimming trunks
runs, huh?" Jon winked.

"Yeah," I laughed.  "I guess we'll just hang out tomorrow if
this doesn't let up."

"Those chops might take a while," he said.  "...pop in one of
the movies."

I selected the "Navy Seals" flick and popped it in.  I
waited with my thumb on the play button while all the usual
endless stuff ran across the screen.  Finally, the main menu
came up.  "Hey, look!"  I said with mock animation, "They
actually snuck a movie in here!"

"Geez, how'd that happen?" Jon sneered.  "Someone at the
studio's probably gonna get canned for that," he said his
sneer giving way to a chuckle.

We cracked open a couple more beers, settled on the couch
and propped our feet up to watch the flick.  Jon glanced at
his watch, checking to see when he had to turn the meat.  We
had enough time, I think.  He sidled over next to me,
shoulder to shoulder, and we rested our hands inside of each
other's thighs.  Not a bad way to start an evening...a fairly
decent action flick, good company and a nice little buzz
starting.

I'd almost forgotten why I rented that movie in the first
place until a scene came up with one of the sexier young
seals dressed in a wetsuit.

"Niiiiice," I heard Jon say quietly.  "Dude, rain or no rain
tomorrow, we're goin' back to Dave's and get me one of
those!" he said.

"No argument here," I said, smiling as I slowly kneaded the
inside of Jon's leg.  He started to burrow his back into the
cushions a bit more until something caught my nose's
attention. "Jon, you'd better check the food.  I think I
smell something burning."

"Shit!" Jon muttered as he jumped up and vaulted over the
back of the sofa.  I hit the pause button as he hit the
doors and disappeared outside.  He came back in a few
minutes later.

"Everything all right?" I asked.

"Yeah, I think I got 'em in time.  They should be done
soon."

I hit the play button again and we just kind of let the
movie be background while we set the table and got the rest
of the food ready.  I cracked open a couple more beers while
Jon brought in the meat and potatoes.  "Damn, that smells
good," I mentioned to him.  I never would have thought dill
would work on pork chops but it smelled fantastic.

"It's even better when they're roasted," he said.

"You ever thought of becoming a chef instead of a doctor?" I
kidded.

"Nah," Jon said.  "Making it a job would just suck all the
fun out of it for me."

"Mmm," I muttered agreement as we sat down, not really
paying attention to the movie anymore.  It'd served its
purpose from my perspective.  "There's so much better stuff
to suck out of you, anyway," I smiled with a way too
dramatic sideways glance.

"Oh, just shut up and eat," Jon said, waving his fork at my
plate, trying not to betray a smile.  "Does your mind always
have to be in the gutter?"

"It likes to have fun there occasionally," I quipped.
"Well, more than occasionally, really...more like..."

"Eat!" he boomed, a little annoyed that I was using one of
his own favorite little pestering tactics on him.

                          *  *  *  *

I'm pretty much like a goat.  I'll eat anything that's put
in front of me without too much complaint...except for
anchovies; can't stand the little bastards...but I have to say
that Jon did an excellent job with the food.  I don't know
what or how his mother taught him in the kitchen, but she
did a really good job at it.

We finished up and got things put away.  Jon's mother
would've been pleased that we weren't living like a couple
of Neanderthals.  The movie ended and we switched over to
the History Channel to see if R. Lee was on.  Nope, missed
him...shame...he's just so entertainingly over the top.  Now we
were stuck with one of those offbeat little in depth
histories they do about some of the most inane things.
Tonight it was the history of lunchboxes.

"You have got to be kidding me," I said.  "Lunchboxes?  They
actually spend money on this?!"

"Looks like," Jon sighed. "At least the one about fast foods
was half way interesting."

"Lunchboxes," I muttered again, still not believing it.
"Why don't they just do a history of dirt?  That'd probably
be just as interesting," I said with my usual dab of sarcasm
as I surfed around, smashing the channel button quickly, not
finding anything that looked even vaguely entertaining.  I
wish someone would explain to me why it is that whenever I
want to do some channel surfing, there always seems to be a
commercial on every channel.  It doesn't matter what time,
there just always seems to be a commercial on every damn
channel.  "Oh, well," I said, giving up and handing the
remote to Jon.  "See if you're luck's any better than mine."

"Well," Jon started, setting the remote on the counter.
"...why don't we crack open another couple of beers and watch
our own video?" he said with a smiling lilt of his eyebrows.

I paused for a second or two, staring blankly at Jon as I
let that thought sink in.  I don't know why I didn't think
of that...must've been the beer doing its work.  "Go get it,"
I smiled.

"Be right back," he said, turning and heading upstairs.  I
couldn't pry my eyes off of that great ass of his, attached
to those fabulous legs with his new dive knife strapped to
his left calf...the whole composition was just too hot.  I
could almost feel the blood in my brain beginning to head
south.

Jon was back in a few moments, camcorder in hand, and
flipped open the side compartment to get at our DVD.
Fumbling a little with nervousness, Jon plopped it into the
tray and hit the Close button.

"Whassa matter, hero?  Nervous?" I asked mockingly as I
needled him in both ribs with my index fingers, laughing as
he jumped.

"Hey!" he yelped as he swatted at one of my hands.  Jon was
really, really ticklish.  If fingers got anywhere near his
ribs he nearly went into orbit.  "Make yourself useful and
hit the lights," he said, settling into the sofa.

"Yes, dear," I replied in a soft, housewife kind of voice.

The room finally darkened except for the soft glow of the
TV, I sat down next to Jon and we nestled in together as he
hit the Play button.  There was nothing but static for a
short while and a notation across the bottom of the TV
screen that said 'No Signal'.

"Great," Jon muttered to himself with a note of disdain.

"You sure you know how to work that thing?" I asked,
pointing at the camcorder resting on the side of the
entertainment system.  "I mean, I'd hate to think we did all
that great lovin' for nothin'," I said, barely able to
restrain a smile as Jon looked at me blankly, incredulously.
Then the light changed, drawing our attention back to the
TV.

It'd worked after all.  Jon turned up the sound.  It was a
little muffled but it wasn't too bad.  There was Jon's
unfocused, robe-clad torso filling the lens, then he moved
around behind the camera, revealing me lying there on the
bed in all my nakedness.  I smiled a little.  Maybe it was
because I was half buried in the sheets, but I thought my
body looked longer than I thought it was.  If it was just an
optical illusion, I was enjoying it.

"Say 'cheese'," Screen-Jon said from behind the camera as he
started fiddling with the focus.

"I got yer cheese right here," Screen-Me said as I flipped
him off.  That part was finally in focus.

Jon and I both laughed at that.

Finally, Jon stepped back in front of the camera and ditched
his robe, revealing his totally awesome silhouette...to say
nothing of his totally awesome erection.  Quickly followed
by my own little mast.

We laughed again.  "Oooo...Nice reaction time," Jon critiqued
as he leaned against me more, resting a hand on the inside
of my thigh.  I rested my hand on his but didn't say a word.
I found myself a little speechless as I slowly guided his
hand further to the inside of my leg where I could feel the
faint beginning of the building of that familiar tension.

From then, we watched wordlessly...as Jon climbed on top of me
and slowly rolled the condom over my erection, causing my
own to begin quickly growing again in the here and now,
growing even harder as Jon applied the lube to himself.  I
could feel Jon press a little harder on my leg, drawing his
own legs up under him as Screen-Jon slowly settled down on
top of Screen-Me.  I could almost feel the heat again as his
tight warmth swallowed me, completely enveloping me, and I
think we both moaned a little as our digital counterparts
did the same but a little more loudly than us.  There was
nothing wrong with the sound now, I'll tell you that!

Eyes closed, operating solely by touch, Screen-Jon bent over
and rested his arms against my pecs, gripping them slightly
as he began a slowly, steady, pulsing rhythm.  Screen-Me's
hands gripped the inside his knees as he did so, burrowing
my head back into the pillow and began finding my own rhythm
to match his, both of us sighing in expectant satisfaction.

I could take no more.  I was going to explode if I didn't do
something soon.

"C'mon," I said, jumping up from the couch, pulling Jon up
by his elbow.

"What?!" Jon asked, surprised by the suddenness of my
action.

"Whadda ya mean, 'what'?" I said urgently.  "C'mon!"

"OH!" he said, the realization finally dawning.  He went to
pick up the remote to stop the playback as I pulled him in
the direction of the stairs, in the direction of our bed.

"Leave it," I commanded as I pulled harder at his arm.  He
dropped the remote back onto the sofa and we headed up as
our little home video continued to play merrily along.

We dashed up the stairs like we had the first time Jon and I
had done it together.  This time, however, it wasn't at all
about making love.  We both knew that.  We both accepted
that.  And right then, we both wanted that.  Whether anyone
liked it or not... as if anyone else would have a say in the
matter...this was strictly about absolutely, positively
nothing more than just flat out doing the nasty and we were
both cool with that.  This was all about our urgent need to
urgently release the spermazodic...is that a real word?  Fuck
it; it is now...fluids that were urgently approaching critical
mass.

We stripped off our clothes as quickly as we could, but I
had a little difficulty with my briefs getting hung up on my
erection...and any guy who tells you he hasn't had that
problem before is a damn liar.  I noticed Jon had the same
problem but we both got past it.  He noticed he was still
wearing his dive knife and bent down to unstrap it.

"Leave it," I commanded again.  He looked up with a 'You
sure?' sort of look at the sound of my voice.  "It makes you
look hotter somehow," I confirmed with stressful immediacy.
"Here, lube up..." I said, tossing him the tube.

"...and be generous," I advised as I went for a condom.
Wouldn't you know it...the fucking box was empty.  I was glad
I'd bought more than one but right then I didn't appreciate
the added little time-wasting annoyance of having to rip
open a new box while my balls continued to scream at me for
relief.  But I tore it open and yanked out a section of
condoms, spilling the rest out onto the floor, ripping the
one on the end free of its perforations and tearing the pack
open.  I pulled it down over my tip, hard enough that I
thought it might rip, and rolled it quickly down over the
rest of me.

Jon was already in bed, waiting.  He, too, had that look of
urgency as he spread his legs, readying himself to accept
me.

"C'mon, baby...," he whispered, sitting up on his elbows,
his fingers motioning for me to come on, making me harder,
if that was at all possible.

"Oh, yeah, baby, I just wanna fuck you," I whispered back as
I stared at the tousled blond laid out there before me.  I
don't know where the words were coming from; they just fell
out of my mouth.

"Do it, stud!" he whispered again in that wonderful bedroom
voice of his, trailing off, resting his hands on the sides
of my thighs as I spread his legs wide, pushing them aside
to give me better access.

My hand overlapped the sheathed knife strapped to Jon's leg
as I spread him, its hard feel only slightly harder than
Jon's own muscles.  It was strange but I really loved the
feel of it; it made the whole scene really hot somehow.  I
let go of his other leg just long enough to guide myself to
his entry, pushing in slightly to seat myself then grabbing
his leg again, pushing it aside as I pushed into him,
slowly.

Jon didn't even wince.  We'd done it enough now that he was
getting used to me.  The fact that we'd both had enough beer
and that he'd used a ton of lube had something to do with
it, too; I'm sure.  Our eyelids just reflexively, slowly
closed and we both moaned a little in tentative relief as I
pushed into him as far as I could go, holding it there for
just a moment, then flexing myself once or twice, enjoying
the heat of him, the tight feel of him.  Jon sighed a little
and I began to slowly pull back.

It didn't take long for us to put our brains in neutral and
let our animal instincts have full reign over our tense
bodies.  For a few moments, I was not Brad Williams.  It was
like I was outside of myself and I was just an organic
machine determined to rid itself of this welling tension as
quickly as possible. My pace quickened.  My hips began to
thrust faster, plunging me in and out of the tight body
beneath me that was moaning with staccato pleasure; that
body that for the moment was not Jon Shepard but was just
another organic machine that also desperately needed relief.
Every now and then, I thought I heard it whisper the same
phrase again and again...'oh yeah, oh yeah'... like a song
caught in a loop.  Fortunately, eloquence was simply not
under consideration at the moment.

That body beneath me, my receptacle, wore an expression of
squinted ecstasy.  Like me, its lips were pulled back just
enough to reveal two rows of white brilliance separated by a
wide chasm that grunted with each of my thrusts, as its hand
traversed its own length with the same trip hammer like
speed and efficiency with which my hips thrust me in and out
of it.  Its breathing was becoming shallower, faster; it was
approaching release.  It grunted, quietly at first, then
reaching a pulsing crescendo as its hot fluid pumped
copiously out onto its pecs and abs.  Its primal cries were
an exhortation to me, my body finally reaching climax as I
pushed its legs further apart, thinking I heard it moan for
a second, and slammed myself into it as far as I could
possibly go.  I felt the moment come.  I tried to hold it
back, to try to savor that warm, electrical moment as long
as I could, but there was no holding it back and I released
as my body tensed, my arms wrapping around its legs to
steady myself.  I felt the familiar, rapturously pleasurable
pulsing, the warm passage of my own fluids into the
sheathing that separated me by scant microns from the taut,
warm surroundings.  I gave a few, very short extra thrusts
into it, instinct making sure I got it all out, and the body
beneath me yelped slightly with each.

The pumping finally stopped.  Rivulets of sweat fell down
into my eyes, stinging slightly, and I wiped them away
before falling on top of the body, our chests working hard
to bring in the air we both very much needed.  My arms found
their way around its back and its around mine as we lay
there for a while, each of us returning to sanity, the
madness fading.  We began to realize, again, who we were,
that he was Jon Shepard, that I was Brad Williams, that we
were lovers and that we both loved each other more than
anyone or anything in the world.

"I love you," I whispered as I covered his mouth with my
own, my tongue probing, finding his.  Jon moaned with happy
satisfaction and shifted his weight a little, finding his
personal sweet spot.  And I felt his hand on my back, his
fingernails lightly scratching, finding my personal sweet
spot.  I moaned, too, never breaking my lips away from his.

THIS was when we should have had the camcorder!

                          *  *  *  *

All the while Jon and I'd been upstairs, our personal little
DVD had still been playing happily along downstairs.  After
it had ended, the machine just went into standby and
displayed a blue screen on the TV with the DVD player's
logo, as we'd find it the next morning. We'd have to get
around to watching it again...well, more like finish watching
it, to be more precise.

When we did get around to finishing it, we might see, for
the first time, the strange little white, almost transparent
sphere that seemed to slowly come out of the wall on the
other side of the bed from the camera.  We'd see it slowly
circle, as if inspecting us.  We'd see it hover in between
us, just standing there, as Jon and I made love earlier that
afternoon.  Then we'd see it slowly disappear back into the
wall from which it had come, right beneath an old, antique
mirror that was there more for decoration rather than
practicality.  And in that mirror, we'd probably see the
faint, the very faint, non-reflected visage of a man staring
down at us with a blank expression.

The same man who was again staring down at us now as we lay
in bed, a squirming, tangled mass of arms and legs, totally
oblivious to everything but each other.

                          *  *  *  *

                       To Be Continued