Date: Fri, 21 Mar 2003 04:17:01 +0100 (CET)
From: CT <ct@fangorn.xs4all.nl>
Subject: Road Trip - 3 (gay / relationships)

You asked for it, now you've got it: the next installment.

Thanks to you who took the time to let me know your thoughts on the
first two chapters. Your comments are much appreciated. And to those
of you who haven't written yet: Go on, write that email.

Looking back at chapters 1 and 2, I realize I didn't do a particularly
good job of proofing them. Sorry about that. I claim impatience with
getting something out and receiving some feedback as excuse. I hope to
do better this time.

Special thanks to Larry, who has volunteered to do editing and
proofreading.  Mistakes you still find are mine. For greatly reducing
the number of mistakes you can find and generally improving the story
you should definitely thank him.

Disclaimer: This story features, among other things, love and intimacy,
both emotional and physical, between men. This by definition makes it a
gay story. If you are offended by or not interested in this, or if
reading this is illegal at your age or in your locality, please leave
now. I am not going to bail you out of jail for it unless you're cute.
All the usual disclaimers apply.

Feedback is highly appreciated and will be answered.
ct@fangorn.xs4all.nl .

Always remember: Keep it Consensual, Safe and Sane out there...

CT

Copyright notice: (C) Copyright 2003 by the author, who can be reached
by email at ct@fangorn.xs4all.nl. A non-exclusive license to display is
granted to Nifty Archives and its mirrors. Copying and format
conversions are allowed for personal use only provided that this
copyright notice stays intact. You are not allowed to repost or reuse
this story outside the Nifty Archives without the authors explicit
written permission except as allowed by the fair use clauses of US
copyright law and the Berne convention.



Road Trip, chapter 3


3.1 Pete

I suddenly wake up. Where am I? As memories of the previous day, or was
it night, come flooding back, I realize I'm not alone, and that I am
naked. On my right is Micha, fully dressed, and half sitting up against
the headboard, with his arm draped around my shoulder. As I wake up
further I realize that I am holding him, too. What's going on here? My
stirring must have woken him up, too. He opens his eyes and smiles at
me. "Good morning, sleeping beauty!" How can he be so cheerful
immediately upon waking up? "Micha, what's going on? What time?
How...?" Questions tumble out of my mouth.

"Whoa there, slow down a bit, let me wake up first. Arghhh, sitting
here for 14 hours didn't do my back much good, so I'll just walk around
the room a bit while we talk, OK? To answer your second question first,
it's twenty-three fifteen. That's a quarter past eleven PM to you. The
how is easy. You fell asleep but didn't let go of me, and I could use
some sleep as well. Sorry, if that bothers you it won't happen again.
As for what's going on, not much right now, but we should plan where to
take it from here." He suddenly turns around and looks at me.

"No, it doesn't bother me." My face must have betrayed my feelings of
anxiety.

"Cheer up, I'm not kicking you out if you don't want to. Now you try to
wake up properly, I gotta take a leak." With that he disappears into
the bathroom, and soon I can hear the sound of a full bladder being
relieved. Wake up? I'm already awake, which is more than I'd expected
to be a few days ago, and I suddenly realize I don't know what to do
anymore. I have no plans. I didn't expect to need them. Come to think
of it, I haven't had many plans for the past year. I don't notice Micha
coming back into the room, but suddenly realize he is sitting on the
other bed, watching me.

"Micha, I just don't know anymore. I lost my job last week. I've been
off sick too often and wasn't productive enough some of the time I was
there. I guess being beaten up does that to you." I manage a wry smile.
"After yesterday, I wasn't expecting to be alive. Beyond next week I
won't have money for rent, I don't have a job, and there's not much of
a job market around here for damaged people who washed out of college,
and liberal arts at that. I was lucky to get the job I had. I don't
even know what happened to my truck." Micha continues watching me as he
speaks.

"The truck should be OK, I parked it out of sight. I can't do anything
about the local job market, but do you have anyone you can ask for
help? Friends or family, here or somewhere else? I'm not even sure that
staying here will accomplish much except to get you beaten up again.
How about your brother?"

My eyes start to fill with tears again, but I fight them back. "After
what Roger did I don't have many friends left. Most people I know avoid
me, to keep from being labeled as a fag lover themselves, and even the
two people who still treat me normal have to be careful. I haven't seen
JJ for ten years, I don't even know where he is now, or if he's even
alive. The rest of my family doesn't talk to me. So no, I haven't got
anywhere to go really. Maybe you can drop me off at my truck, and I'll
see where I end up when my money and gas run out. I'm not gonna stay in
this town anymore."


3.2 Micha

To be honest I haven't been sleeping for 14 hours straight. I've also
been sitting there thinking, and watching Pete sleep. He certainly has
to get out of here, something he should have done a year ago if not
before. It has always worried me how people can get stuck in a bad
situation and not see the necessity of packing up and moving on. My
hope has been that I could help him by seeing him on his way, or
dropping him off somewhere, but that doesn't seem likely to eventuate.
Of course there is always plan C. I am not sure it can be made to work
at all, it is pretty much a gamble.

The result will be a gamble, the process will be a gamble, and it is
even a gamble if Pete will be willing to take the risk and if he trusts
me enough or is desperate enough. I've considered it at length. Surely
it is a long shot, but it just might work out for the best. Although I
certainly don't mind the fact that it means that Pete will be with me
for at least a couple more weeks, I wouldn't even suggest it if I felt
it would be more harmful than the alternatives.

"Pete, I don't think that's gonna work. You have no money, that truck
isn't gonna last another thousand miles without some repair work, and
frankly you're in no condition to drive a long distance, or to do much
work to earn your living. If you want to go through with it, I will try
to get you on your way as best I can. At least with your truck serviced
and a full tank of gas, plus money and food for a couple of weeks.
Beyond that you'll be on your own, and sleeping in that truck in winter
doesn't sound like a winner to me. There is an alternative, and please
consider it carefully before answering. We'll have breakfast after I've
explained it to you, and I don't want an answer until after we're done
eating. OK?"

Pete nods.

"My guess, and correct me if I'm wrong, is that your best bet is
probably getting you set up somewhere else, somewhere safer, maybe with
your brother, and either getting you back into school or into some kind
of employment. I've got contacts that might be able to help. I'm not
one for hanging around, so you'd be traveling with me until that's
sorted out. I've got a couple of business meetings in Portland, after
that I'm probably heading for California. Who knows where fate will
take us next. So, think about it, think about the implications of just
leaving here, and the fact that it might not work out in the end. I'm
pretty confident it will, but I can't make any promises. Now how about
breakfast, do you feel like getting up and heading to Denny's down the
street already or would you rather eat here in the room? I'm afraid
there's not much other food available around here this time of night,
and I don't consider McDonalds food."


3.3 Pete

"I think I can make it, b-b-b-but I don't have any clothes to put on,"
I stammer. My head is reeling. Did Micha just offer to take me along on
whatever trip he is taking? What trip is he taking anyway? He doesn't
seem to have much of an idea where he is going himself. Can I trust
him? So far he has treated me well, but wasn't that true of more than
one mass murderer, too? On the other hand, if it weren't for him I'd be
dead already, and I want, no, make that crave, to be near him. On the
third hand, if he turns out to be some kind of weirdo, there are fates
worse than death. But then again, what future do I have here? And his
remarks about the truck and winter are true.

"Use some of mine. We're about the same height. Tighten the belt to
keep them from falling off. We'll get something better later." This
shakes me out of my reverie, and I start putting on the clothes he has
put on the bed for me. Jeans, a t-shirt and a flannel shirt. Easy and
comfortable. Moving my arms still hurts, and when I grimace Micha walks
up behind me and gently helps me get dressed. "Just take it easy,
you've got a couple cracked ribs and some nasty bruises. You'll be sore
for a while. Move your arms slowly and it won't hurt too bad. I hope."

After I've gotten dressed Micha puts his jacket around my shoulders,
and we walk out. He doesn't seem to mind the cold, even though it is
freezing. An old Mercedes is parked outside, with Maine plates on it.
His? It certainly isn't a rental, not even Rent-a-Wreck has those
anymore. If they ever had them in the first place. We get in and drive
off, each of us deep in thought. A couple of minutes later finds us
tucking into a hearty breakfast, an original grand slam slugger for me
and a veggie-cheese omelet with hash browns and toast for him. Seldom
has food tasted so good, and before long our plates are clean and
seconds have been ordered.

He doesn't want an answer until we are done eating, but I have already
made up my mind. If Micha doesn't mind me traveling with him, I will
go. There is nothing left here for me, and it sounds like the best
chance I have. Not to mention that I fell in love with him the first
time I saw him, and the selfish thought that he seems to have contacts
to get things done. He must have sensed something, and smiles at me. "A
penny for your thoughts."

"What are you, psychic? You asked me to wait until after breakfast, or
whatever you call it in the middle of the night, but yes, if you want
me with you, I'll go with you. There's nothing here for me. Besides, I
would give up anything for the chance to find my brother, and I love
you." Shit, did I just blurt that out? Stupid, stupid, stupid. Last
time I did that I ended up with 3 years of misery, and now just as good
fortune finally seems to be smiling upon me, I've got to screw it up
again. Stupid. Fuck. Strangely enough Micha doesn't seem to mind, and
he smiles as he slides a penny across the table to me.

"Don't beat yourself up, I did ask for your thoughts and you told me.
To tell the truth, although I barely know you I think I love you too,
or at least feel a strong attraction to you. But lets take it easy, we
both have ghosts in our past, and rushing into something isn't going to
do either of us any good. Anyway, welcome aboard, and yes, having just
woken up I still call it breakfast regardless of the time of day." He
looks past me at the kitchen. "I think our order is about to be
delivered, and not a moment too soon. I'm still starved."

I pick up the penny and put it in my pocket. We dig into our food and
for the next few minutes the only sound coming from our table is of us
chewing down our second order.

"Micha, now that I've placed myself at your mercy, for whatever that's
gonna bring, would you mind telling me something about yourself? Who
are you, where are you going, where are you from? That car's not a
rental, and I can't place your accent although it seems close to that
of the South Africans in Lethal Weapon 2 but you're nicer than that
..."