Date: Mon, 22 Dec 2014 14:27:00 -0500
From: keybedder@aol.com
Subject: Full Circle: Steelman Tales

FULL CIRCLE: PART ONE by K. Nitsua. Copyright 2014 by the author.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the final installment of The Steelman Tales.

One night that summer Kevin had a dream. In it he was standing watching
Jon, tall and vigorous as he had been most of his life. His love was
dancing by himself, happy and carefree-strange, because Jon had never been
much of a dancer. Kevin smiled at the sight, but then he grew sad because
he knew, even in his dream, that it couldn't be real--Jon had been gone for
more than a year. He began to cry--harsh, painful sobs that tore at him as
they welled up from his lungs.

He awoke to the dark solitude of the bedroom and the bed in which he now
slept alone.  Real tears were running down his cheeks. It was a long time
before he fell asleep again.

In the morning he walked out into the back yard and stood gazing at the
swimming pool. Leaves were floating on the surface, and the water was a
suspicious murky color. It really needed cleaning, but he didn't have the
time or the energy. He'd thought of draining and filling it in, but there
were too many memories. For the umpteenth time he told himself: get off
your butt and hire someone to do it.

In his clinical practice he had counseled more than a few patients through
bereavement and loss and done his best to empathize. He had always been
aware that he had not lived the same experiences they had. All that had
changed over the past few years. Only lately had he emerged from the fog of
his own grief enough to wonder, now and then, how losing Jon in such an
agonizing way would change him as a professional. As yet, he couldn't be
sure.

People had begun to contact him again. That was an unexpected cruelty of
losing a life partner--the silence. He knew that friends hadn't called
because they didn't know what to say, or thought he wanted to be left
alone. In a way they had been right. How could he have spoken about Jon's
death to anyone, when even thinking about it had brought him to tears?

Long ago he and Jon had dined together in this house and sat by this pool
after their first meal together. Later, they had swum nude and made
passionate love in its waters. The memories did not cause him pain now-he
felt nothing at all. It was as if he were remembering a scene in a movie,
or someone else's life.

Slowly Kevin turned and walked back into the silent house.

******

It had started so gradually. Afterward Kevin suspected that Jon had been
declining for a long while before people started noticing, and had
successfully concealed or compensated for his increasing difficulties until
they began to overwhelm him.

Brenda, Jon's administrative assistant, had called him one day at
work. "I'm very sorry to bother you, Kevin, but I thought you should know
if you didn't already. Jon seems to be having trouble using his computer."

"What do you mean?"

Brenda hesitated. "Well, this may sound strange, but for the past few days,
he's been asking me every day how to open his e-mail account. I've showed
him, of course, and he's thanked me and been fine, but then the next day
it's as if he never did it before. And it's not a new system."

At that point Kevin had been merely puzzled, not terrified.

Then there had been the day that Jon had come home, slamming the door,
fuming and cursing. This was so unlike his usual self that Kevin had come
out of his study when he heard.

"What's the matter?"

"This bunch of assholes who supposedly work for me. Always asking me what I
mean. Telling me that they already told me things or sent me e-mails. Why
the fuck don't they just tell me what I need to know?"

Quiet inquiries had revealed an increasingly erratic pattern of
behavior. Jon missing meetings, being found wandering around campus
afterward. Saying he had just needed to get away and think. Jon stopping
students on campus, asking them how to get to buildings and classrooms that
had been intimately familiar to him for decades.

It had been possible to Kevin to push these incidents to the back of his
mind as long as they were only at work. Then things had started happening
at home.

******

"Dr.-uh, sorry, I forgot your name."

The student he had finally hired to clean the pool was standing outside the
back door. Although it was only mid-morning in May the Texas sun was
already beating down with a steady, blazing strength.

"Kuehlwasser. It's kind of weird, I know. Just call me Kevin." With an
effort he remembered the boy's name: Ryan something.

"Well, K-" Ryan stopped, abashed, unable to address him so
informally. Kevin smiled to himself, oddly touched. "Anyway, I only skimmed
your pool. Didn't drain it, because I couldn't put in any chemicals."

"Wasn't there a canister of stuff in the shed?"

"Well, yeah. But you see the color of the water? It's going to need a lot
more than just some more chlorine, man."

"Oh, jeez." Kevin was embarrassed. "I guess it's been longer than I thought
since I cleaned it myself." He couldn't remember, was the truth.

"Anyway, we'll need specific chemicals to do this, and a bigger poolvac. I
can get the machine, and I'll write down the name of the stuff I think we
should use, if you don't mind buying some. We need to do a thorough
cleaning, restore the water to the proper ph, then shock it back to
health. That's what you call it."

"Sure. How much for today?"

The student shrugged. "Why don't we wait until I finish all the work, then
I'll give you an itemized invoice. Less paperwork that way."

"Well, thanks. At least come in and let me get you something to drink."

He pushed open the screen door and let Ryan into the kitchen, still warm
since he hadn't turned on the air conditioning. That was a frugal habit Jon
had cultivated, avoiding turning on the AC as long as possible even during
the broiling hot days of the Texas summer.

"Sorry it's so hot in here."

Ryan shrugged. "Cooler than outside."

"What can I get you?"

"Just some water, thanks."

Kevin gave Ryan a glass and studied him while he drank it. He saw a
dark-haired young man around twenty, tall and lean, with angular, chiseled
features that were surprisingly intense even in repose. Jon might have
looked something like him when he was that age. He blinked away the tears
that had suddenly risen to his eyes before Ryan could see.

"You live here by yourself?"

Kevin stammered, thrown by the suddenly personal question. "Uh... yes. I
had a partner--spouse. He passed away about a year ago. He was the Provost
at Steelman for many years."

He wasn't surprised that the student showed no sign of recognition. Ryan
also had no reaction to the information that Kevin had been married to a
man. That much had changed in his lifetime, at least.

"Sorry for your loss, man." Ryan drained his glass and rose. "I'll call you
about next time. Or you can call or text me once you've gotten the stuff."

Kevin nodded. "Okay."

Ryan approached Kevin and once more took him by surprise, extending a hand
and shaking Kevin's, looking into his eyes with a smile that completely
transformed his face. "Have a good day."

Kevin watched him as he headed out the back door. Ryan's shoulders were
broad in his t-shirt, his hips narrow, his butt compact and shapely. He
shook his head. Stop it. As if he'd ever.

Still, he caught himself later that day idly wondering what Ryan looked
like naked.

******

When he got out of his car in the driveway after coming home from work
Kevin did not immediately place the sound he heard coming from inside the
house. When he did, his body hurtled into motion without conscious thought,
his feet running toward the front door.

It was the smoke alarm.

He flung open the door. A bluish cloud drifted out and the acrid odor
immediately assailed his nostrils. Indoors the beeping was loud and
insistent. Choking and coughing, Kevin ran to the living room. Jon was
sitting on the couch dressed in his suit. He raised his head, startled.

"Get out! Get out now!" Kevin shouted.

Jon's expression was vacant. "What? What's the matter?"

"Jon, the house is on fire!"

He ran into the kitchen. It was a pan on the stove. Through the smoke that
filled the kitchen Kevin could see that bright flames were shooting to the
ceiling. The baking soda box-where the hell was it?! Kevin finally
remembered and pulled it out of the refrigerator. He tipped the box into
his palm and blindly threw handfuls of white powder at the conflagration
until finally the flames began to die down.

He was gagging and hacking from the irritating smoke. Tears were running
down his cheeks. Kevin threw open as many windows as he could to try and
get it out of the house, turning the vent fan above the stove on full
blast. At last the air began to clear and he could see again. It took him a
few more moments to find and disable the smoke alarm. The sudden silence
was both a shock and a relief.

It was sheer good luck he had come home before the fire started to
spread. A large black circle of soot stained the ceiling above the
stove. Everything in the kitchen would have to be cleaned.

"Jon!" Where was he? Kevin ran back into the living room. His spouse was
still sitting on the couch, in the same position as when Kevin had come
running in.

"What the fuck were you doing? Trying to burn the house down? Didn't you
see the smoke? What the hell's the matter with you?"

Jon's lip trembled and he looked as if he were about to cry.

"Kevin, please. Don't shout at me like that."

He was not getting through. As he stared at his partner Kevin's anger
receded and a creeping chill took its place. Without answering he turned
and went back into the kitchen, more slowly now, hoping against hope that
he had been mistaken about what he'd suddenly remembered seeing in the
refrigerator in his panicked search.

Kevin opened the door and stood staring down, not caring about the cold air
rushing out.

Jon's book and cell phone were on the top rack.

He closed his eyes. Something had to be done.

******

After Ryan left Kevin made a brief call, then got in the car and went to
the Steelman campus. It was only a few blocks away and Jon had walked to
work almost every day. He needed the car today, though. He was going to do
a task that he had been putting off for months and couldn't postpone any
longer.

Marcia Hannon, Jon's successor as Provost, had called a few days previously
about picking up Jon's remaining things. She was always gentle and
respectful, but this last time the message had been clear.

"Kevin, I don't want to upset you, but we're a bit short on space
here. Surely there's something you might want, and if you don't want any of
Jon's things, we'd rather it be you who makes the decision than us."

"Okay, I'll be there," he had said. It was now two days after when he'd
said he'd come, but at least he was actually doing it.

It felt odd walking into the Steelman main administration building,
familiar and strange at the same time. He realized how long it had been
since he had been here. The wooden boards creaked under his feet in the
hallway leading to the Provost's office as they always had. He had thought
that going back might be difficult, but he felt nothing as he approached
what had been Jon's abode.

He didn't recognize the woman at the front desk-Brenda, Jon's former
assistant, must have retired. "Hello," Kevin said. "I'm here to see
Marcia."

She nodded. "She's expecting you. Go right on in."

Marcia stood and came from behind her desk as soon as Kevin entered the
office. "My, it's good to see you," she said as she hugged him. "How are
you doing?"

He shrugged. "Good days and bad. You know. How about you?"

She glanced downward. He could see she was mulling over her next words.

"It's an honor to have this job, but it's not one that I ever went after,"
Marcia said. "Jon is a hard act to follow, Kevin. You know I'm not just
saying that."

"Thank you, Marcia."

She continued, with a forced briskness. "There's really not that much you
need to look at. We've taken most of his official papers and put them into
University storage, or scanned them and added them to the electronic
archive. But the personal things-we thought you'd like to have them, or at
least go through the things and decide."

"I'm sorry it's taken so long for me to get here."

Her look was sympathetic. "I entirely understand. Please let me know if
there's anything I can do to help."

There actually wasn't very much stuff, just one largish cardboard box
loosely packed with memorabilia and framed photos. Jon with Dr. Hale, then
President of Steelman University. Jon making a speech at some university
function. Diplomas from his alma maters. Kevin set the box down on the
table in the conference room where Marcia had left him and began to
separate objects into piles, grouping them loosely by subject.

He didn't find the snapshot of him and Jon until he had almost emptied the
box. It took him a second to remember where it had been taken-one of the
large ballrooms in the student union, during a class reunion. His
twentieth, actually.

It had not been so long ago, but so much had happened since then it seemed
part of the distant past.

Jon had just been appointed Acting Provost. It had been one of the first
major university functions where they had appeared together as a couple,
and the evening had been stressful. Yet he remembered it fondly, due to a
totally unexpected encounter with a friend he hadn't seen since they both
graduated.

Lucas Boatright. Luke.

He wasn't in this photograph, but Kevin nevertheless could see him clearly
in his mind's eye. Sweet, vulnerable Lucas with his shock of dark hair,
which he had retained even past forty years of age. Kevin had saved him one
night when they were both students from what he always thought had been a
suicide attempt. They had gone back to his dorm room and hooked up, in
today's lingo, the one and only time.

Why hadn't it gone farther than that? Afterward he'd listened to Lucas'
tale of woe, rejected by someone who had used then discarded him, claiming
to be straight, a familiar story. At the time Kevin hadn't wanted to take
advantage of someone so obviously shattered. Besides, he had still been
carrying a torch for his handsome former English instructor, Jonathan
Evans.

Twenty years later at that Steelman reunion he had still felt the same
chemistry between them. But by then he and Jon had been together for two
decades, through good times and bad. Lucas for his part had been hell bent
on confronting Will, the athlete who had seduced and abandoned him. Kevin
and Lucas had embraced as friends, parted, and not seen each other
since. They had e-mailed for a while and talked about getting together
again, but something always came up.

The crucible of the past few years-Jon's unexpected, rapid and hopeless
descent into Alzheimer's-had left Kevin with no time or energy to maintain
most of the friendships they had, let along think about reconnecting with
anyone. With Lucas, it wouldn't have been easy in any case. He had written
Kevin some years after the reunion to say that Will had joined him in
California, abandoned by his family and most of his former friends, his
health increasingly precarious. Then, silence.

When he had thought of his friend at all after that, Kevin had mentally
pictured Lucas as the patient caregiver to his flighty, undeserving love,
and pitied him his situation. Little had he known.

Did he even have a working e-mail for Lucas anymore? Or a photo? Suddenly
Kevin longed to see him, to find out what had happened, to catch up, to
hear the end of the story.

The photo of him and Jon at the reunion and Jon's diplomas were the only
things Kevin took with him when he left the office.

******

He was in the office of the director of the care center, sitting in front
of her desk. Kevin liked the woman. She was professional and composed, but
genuine in her concern.

"I can assure you, Mr. Kuehlwasser, your husband will be well taken care of
here. This is a state of the art facility precisely for patients like
Professor Evans."

"And will I be able to take him out, bring him home every so often?"

"As long as he is able to understand instructions and you or someone else
is willing to supervise him. Be aware that a time may come when this may
not be possible. As the disease advances patients become disoriented very
easily, and may wander off when you're not looking. We've never lost a
patient even when they've done so, thank heavens-but you never know."

"I understand. I love Jon." Kevin paused to compose himself. "I'm willing
to do whatever it takes to keep him as happy and comfortable as possible,
for as long as possible."

The director's gaze was sympathetic. "I won't sugar-coat things,
Mr. Kuehlwasser. It's a heavy burden of care for one person, even if the
patient is institutionalized. Does Mr. Evans have no other close friends or
relatives?"

Kevin shook his head. "Jon's family cut off contact with him when he came
out. His parents are dead. He has a younger sister, but he hasn't spoken to
her for years."

"There are resources available for caregivers. I can put you in touch with
people who can help you."

She had pressed a brochure into his hand as he left. He'd never called the
number.

******

He had finally gotten it together enough to go to the local home
improvement megastore and purchase the necessary supplies to clean the
pool. Ryan answered at once when he called and they agreed on a day for him
to come back.

"Glad to hear from you," he said. "I was starting to wonder."

On Thursday, when Ryan came to finish the job, Kevin had gone in to his
practice. He allowed himself the luxury of leaving early one day a week, so
by two in the afternoon he was pulling into the driveway. The student's
battered pickup truck was parked in front of the house. Kevin went in and
looked out the back window from the kitchen. He was vaguely disappointed
that Ryan had on clothes similar to the last time. He watched him working,
steady and industrious, for a few minutes, then went into the bedroom to
change out of his work clothes.

It was a hot September afternoon and he flipped on the air
conditioning. The window shades were down in the bedroom, though, and it
had stayed cool. It felt good to unknot his tie and strip off his
long-sleeved dress shirt. Impulsively he stripped naked and rummaged around
in one of the drawers of the dresser for something he hadn't worn in ages.

The dark blue square-cut trunks still fit him. He gazed at himself
critically in the full-length mirror on the bathroom door, wishing his
stomach were flatter. Carrying a towel, a pair of sunglasses, and a bottle
of sunscreen (he'd really had to rummage around for that in the medicine
cabinet), he walked through the house and out the back door to the pool
deck.

Ryan looked up as Kevin settled himself into a lounge chair. "Oh, hey."

"Thought I'd catch a few rays on my afternoon off. Okay with you if I'm out
here?"

The student shrugged. "Sure. It's your house, man."

"How's it going?"

"Good. Should be finished before too long. Glad about that, 'cause it is
hot out here."

Ryan turned back to his work as Kevin leaned back on the chair, towel
underneath him. He squeezed sunscreen out of the bottle into his hand and
began to apply it.

"Want some help with that?"

Ryan had suddenly appeared by his chair. Kevin, startled, looked
up. "What?"

"I can put some on your back if you want."

"Oh, sure." Kevin turned over on his stomach. Ryan's touch was strong and
felt good. The boy was thorough, starting with his neck and working all the
way down to the waist of his swimwear, taking his time. Kevin found himself
wishing his trunks were lower-cut. He felt a swelling underneath himself.

"Nice suit."

"Huh-oh, thanks." God, he was blushing. Kevin's heart was pounding. Ryan
was playing along, at least not repulsed by him. He took the opening,
speaking with studied casualness.

"You know, you could work on your tan too." He turned partway over, careful
to keep his crotch out of view, and held out the bottle, which Ryan had put
down on the deck. "You're going to be out here a while longer, why not?"

The student stood silent, his eyes invisible behind his sunglasses. Kevin
held his breath, then expelled in a sigh when he saw Ryan's slow shrug and
grin.

"Why not?"

In one swift motion Ryan stripped off his t-shirt and let it drop on the
deck. Kevin's breath caught at the sight of his torso, lean and ripped. The
casual beauty of youth was something he hadn't seen close up in a long
time.

Ryan sat on the chaise longue on which Kevin was lying. "So will you do my
back now?"

"Sure." Kevin was glad Ryan was facing away from him so he couldn't see how
nervous he was. His hands felt unsteady as he squeezed out the sunscreen
into his palm and began to apply it to Ryan's neck and shoulders, which
were surprisingly broad close up and corded with muscle. All too soon he
was finished.

"Here. You need to apply it to your front and face too."

Ryan turned and grinned. "Don't I know it. We could really fry out here."

He applied the sunscreen to the rest of himself, bending down to do his
legs and feet, pushing his hands up his thighs and under the hem of his
shorts until Kevin longed to do the same. "Okay. Now I'm ready for some
sun."

Kevin felt a little calmer as Ryan strode away to the pool. For the next
half hour or so he lay in his chair, watching the student finish cleaning,
becoming agreeably drowsy. It was hot enough that he was sweating through
the sunscreen by the time his eyes suddenly flew open.

Ryan was by his side again, holding the pool vacuum.

"All done. Just going to put your leftovers in the cleaning shed, then put
this machine up."

Ryan was also sweating from exertion, his chest and defined abs glistening
in the sunlight. Kevin's mouth was dry and he had to clear his throat to
speak.

"Your money's in an envelope in the kitchen. I'm going in and showering
off." Kevin could barely say the next sentence. "Do you want to do the same
before you go?"

A smile. "That would be great. Thanks."

He was no longer bothering to hide the bulge in his swim trunks. "When
you've put the stuff up, come on in the house and help yourself to some
water. I've got some bottles in the fridge. You'll hear the shower going,
so you'll know where it is."

"I'll come find you." Ryan's grin broadened.

Back in the dark, cool bedroom, Kevin peeled off his suit and let it fall
to the floor. His cock, released from its confines, sprang up, as hard as
if he were twenty years younger. He was almost beside himself with
excitement. Was it really going to happen?

He turned on the water in the shower and stepped in when the spray was warm
enough, pulling the curtain to, soaping himself slowly, turning, making it
last, hoping against hope that Ryan wasn't just going to take the money,
get in his truck and drive away, laughing to himself at the pathetic old
guy who had tried to get in his pants.

He started as the bathroom door swung open. A sinewy hand pushed the
curtain aside--it was Ryan, naked, hair tousled, long, circumcised cock
jutting from coal-black pubic hair.

"Ready for me?"

Kevin could only nod. He closed his eyes as Ryan stepped in the tub and
gathered him into his arms. A heady mix of male sweat and sunscreen came
with him.

"You know," the boy said in his ear through the rushing water, "I really do
need to get clean first. That okay?"

"Do whatever you want."

Ryan grinned. "Oh, I will."

Later in the bedroom he was as good as his word. When Kevin knelt in front
of him, Ryan's hands clamped on the back of his head, pushing his nose into
the dense thicket of hair. Strong hips thrust the cock in his mouth down
his throat repeatedly until Kevin gagged and coughed and had to pull back,
eyes watering.

After a few minutes Ryan pulled Kevin to his feet, spun him around and
pushed him down on the bed on his stomach, reaching for the bottle of lube
lying on the cover. Kevin twisted his head around.

"No condom," Ryan said in response to his unspoken question. "I'm
disease-free, don't worry. I like to breed my bottoms."

His unspoken doubts vanished in the pain and joy of Ryan's cock violating
him a moment later. Heedless of Kevin's muffled, agonized shout at the
rough entry, the boy began to fuck him with hard, staccato
thrusts. Clutching hands grabbed Kevin's and pinned him to the bed in a
spread eagle as Ryan bent and covered his body with his own, hot breath
tickling Kevin's ear.

"You're mine now."

In a while Ryan pulled out and flipped Kevin onto his back, clambering onto
the bed and pushing into him again, bending him double with knees pressed
to his chest. Kevin studied Ryan's face, teeth clenched, brow furrowed with
intensity as he worked toward his orgasm. Once again he was reminded of
Jon, long ago, in the same bedroom.

Ryan caught his eye. He grinned, then closed his eyes and stepped up the
pace of his thrusts until Kevin could feel the actual heat of their fucking
from his inflamed, abused hole. Abruptly Ryan's mouth clamped on his, his
urgent tongue filling Kevin's mouth. A low, muffled moan welled up out of
the boy's throat and rose in pitch until he suddenly broke away and arched
his back, raising his face toward the ceiling as he shouted, "Fuck yeah!
Take it!"

Kevin squeezed his inner muscles as tightly as he could around the cock
inside of him, tight enough to feel it pulsing as it delivered its
load. Ryan gasped loudly, then collapsed onto him with his full weight,
body still heaving.

After a while he rose and smiled down at Kevin. "Your turn." One of his
hands closed around Kevin's cock and quickly jacked him to climax. It had
been a long time and he'd forgotten how good it felt to cum with a cock up
his ass. He groaned as hot fluid spurted from his organ and splashed across
his stomach. Finally he opened his eyes. Ryan was looking down at him with
a satisfied expression.

"Nice. Feel better?"

"Much. Thanks."

"No problem. Seems like you needed that."

Kevin chuckled. "Oh yes I did. Guys my age don't get a lot. Especially from
young studs like you."

Ryan chuckled. "Keep talking. Oh, I felt that."

Kevin had given Ryan's organ inside him another squeeze. "Still hard, isn't
it?"

"Maybe. Why, you want to go again?"

Kevin made a wry face. "Thanks, but no. It may take me a while to recover
from this one."

Ryan looked worried. "Hey-was I too rough?"

"No. I liked it. It felt good having you in charge, believe me. Umph!"

Kevin grunted, startled, as Ryan abruptly pulled out and rose off the bed.

"Sorry. Got to go."

"So-will you be back?" Kevin tried to keep his voice casual.

Ryan lowered the towel with which he had been wiping himself and looked at
him quizzically. "Up to you, man."

"Well, I'm going to need the pool cleaned again sometime."

He shook his head. "No go for that. You've got to get someone else."

"Why?" Kevin asked, confused.

Ryan's hands were on his hips, his expression one of exaggerated
patience. "I don't mix business with pleasure, man. Never works."

"Oh." Kevin hesitated. "So-you would come back to... I mean..."

"Yeah, I'd do you again." Ryan grinned. "On one condition."

"Which is?"

"I shot a nice big load inside you. You have to hold it until I call and
give you permission to release it."

Kevin's jaw dropped. "What?"

"Could be half an hour, could be tomorrow. And no lying. I can always
tell. Going to do it?"

Silence, then Kevin nodded. Ryan leaned down and kissed him before starting
to dress.

"See," he said, smiling into Kevin's eyes. "That way you'll be thinking of
me every minute until I call."

******

Once a week, without fail, Kevin came to the center and took Jon on an
outing. Sometimes they would go out to eat, sometimes to a nearby park for
a walk. Although Kevin worried that too much stimulation would agitate Jon,
he was usually okay as long as Kevin stayed nearby. In fact, Kevin thought
the trips did him good-Jon seemed more alert and would occasionally speak
without being prompted or asked a question, though he never recognized
Kevin or any of the familiar places he or they had frequented.

"See that tower?" Kevin said, as they drove by the Steelman campus. "That's
the main building. You used to go to work there every day."

A distant smile crossed Jon's face. He didn't say anything. Kevin was
accustomed to his lack of response and changed the subject.

"You want to have some lunch?"

Jon nodded. "That would be nice."

He decided to stop at a small lunch counter/deli in their neighborhood and
pick up something to take home, rather than wait for a table
somewhere. When he stopped in front he momentarily debated with himself
whether to leave Jon in the car, then thought better of it.

"We're going to get some food," he told Jon. "It'll only take a minute."

Ordering and paying for the food passed without incident, though he had to
pull Jon to his feet and out the door when he tried to sit down.

"We're going to eat at home today," Kevin told him.

"Why?"

"It's cooler there." It was as good a reason as any.

He hadn't brought Jon back to their house for quite a while. The last time
he had, his partner's condition hadn't advanced so far, and Jon had grown
upset when he'd had to go back to his small apartment at the care
center. Kevin thought, his heart heavy, that it wasn't likely that the same
problem would occur this time.

Sure enough, when he opened the car door in the driveway and gently helped
Jon get to his feet, the older man glanced toward the house without a
flicker of recognition.

"Here we are," Kevin said with forced cheerfulness. "Come on in."

At least Jon was in an obedient frame of mind today. Kevin didn't have any
trouble getting him in and seated at the kitchen table. He quickly got out
some plates and unpacked the sandwiches, easy food that Jon could still
handle. Usually he still remembered how to eat, but once or twice lately at
the center Kevin had noticed him staring blankly at a utensil in his
hand. He tried not to think of the day when meals like this would no longer
be possible.

Jon ate with enthusiasm, another sign that this was a good day. Soon he had
as much as he wanted and put the sandwich down.

"Taste good?"

His partner smiled and nodded.

"You want some more to drink?" Kevin reminded himself that talking louder,
as if Jon were deaf, was no help.

Jon shook his head.

"Why don't we go in the living room and sit on the couch. Nice and
comfortable."

They sat in silence. Kevin kept silent, partly because he wanted a break
from the aimless chatter, the one-sided conversations that usually formed
the substance of their interactions now. He had also discovered that
sometimes Jon would still speak without being prompted if he wasn't
peppered with questions. Such occasions made Kevin happy out of all
proportion to their frequency, because they allowed him to cling to the
hope that the real Jon, the man he had known and loved for decades, was
still in there somewhere.

His partner stirred at his side. He let out a sigh.

"Are you okay?"

Kevin looked into Jon's dark brown eyes, once sharp and intelligent, now
mostly blank. Right now though he thought detected a sadness in them.

"What's wrong?"

Jon shook his head slowly. "I wonder where he is."

"Who?"

"Kevin."

"Jon," Kevin said as gently as he could, "I'm Kevin. I'm right here."

Jon went on, not comprehending. "I miss him."

Kevin kept his voice even with an effort. It's not about you. It's about
helping him. "You and Kevin were happy together, weren't you?"

Jon smiled. "Yes." A sly expression appeared on his face. "I am telling
you, that was one hot stud."

He's talking. Keep him talking.

"So you thought he was cute?"

Jon chuckled softly. "Oh my, yes. We had such fucking hot sex. Miss that."

Kevin's jaw dropped. Since Jon's decline had accelerated he never talked
about having physical urges or wanting that kind of contact. He saw, to his
further amazement, that his partner's hand had dropped to his crotch and
was kneading the swelling mound between his legs.

An idea entered his brain, and before sanity could stop him he acted on it.

"You're horny, aren't you?"

"Yep." Jon licked his lips, holding Kevin's gaze.

Kevin dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Do you want me to
take care of that?"

In response Jon spread his legs further apart. Keeping his mind a careful
blank, Kevin dropped to his knees on the carpet, positioning himself
between Jon's legs and slowly drawing down the zipper. He fished Jon's
semi-erect cock organ of his underwear, and had to pause as sudden tears
rose to his eyes. How long had it been since they had done this? With an
effort he turned his mind back to the task at hand, taking the organ slowly
into his mouth, feeling it harden, hearing Jon's slow exhale above him.

He cast his eyes upward-his partner's head was thrown back, his eyes
closed, his mouth open. Kevin took that as a good sign and continued to
suck, sliding up and down, using plenty of spit. He slipped a hand under
Jon's shirt and caressed the bare skin underneath, finding a nipple and
tweaking it.

His partner's climax happened quickly, taking him by surprise-a few louder
gasps, surprisingly strong thighs tightening around his neck, then the
familiar salty-bitter taste of semen filling his mouth. Kevin swallowed
quickly and released the softening penis, then glanced up again.

Jon was looking down at him. The tenderness in his eyes in an instant
dissolved the years, and made the current nightmare seem doubly
unreal. This time Kevin couldn't prevent the tears spilling out and running
down his cheeks. Jon's expression changed to concern.

"Wasn't it good? Did I hurt you?"

He shook his head, hastily brushing the tears away. "No, no." Kevin
clambered onto the couch beside Jon and took his head in his hands, staring
into his partner's eyes, willing him to remember.

"How could you ever hurt me? I love you more than anything in this
world. Can you understand that, Jon? Please?"

Silence, then Jon slowly spoke, his eyes grave. "This can never happen
again."

Kevin nodded, guilt sweeping over him. What had he done?

"If Kevin ever found out, he would be so hurt."

He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He did neither, but looked again
into Jon's eyes with as solemn an expression as he could muster. "You're
right. I swear to you, no one will ever hear about this from me."

Jon looked relieved. "Me neither."

Kevin thought that was probably true.

The next moment Jon startled him with a roguish grin. He patted Kevin's
hand. "You were very naughty to have done that. But I enjoyed it."

Kevin smiled. "I did too. Could I have a kiss, since we're not going to do
this again?"

Jon smiled. "Only one. He might come home any minute."

His lifelong love and companion, his spouse, retreating ever further from
him. Kevin leaned forward and touched his lips to Jon's, gently, chastely.

"Thank you," he said.

There was still a little time before he would have to take Jon back to the
center. "Would you like to rest a while?" he asked.

Jon nodded. Kevin zipped him up and helped him to his feet.

In the bedroom they had shared he sat Jon down on the bed and slipped off
his shoes.

"Would you stay here with me?" Jon asked.

"Of course."

Lying on his side next to his partner, Kevin watched Jon as he slept. His
face was serene, indistinguishable from the man Kevin had once known. His
breathing was deep and even.

If only we could die right now, this minute. Together.

******

Midday. His receptionist had gone to lunch. Kevin punched in a number on
his cell phone and listened to the repeated ring tones nervously. What
would he say if someone answered?

"Hello?"

"Lucas. This is Kevin. Kevin Kuehlwasser."

...to be continued