Date: Fri, 21 Dec 2012 18:47:28 -0500
From: Ring Master <academygm@hotmail.com>
Subject: Disorder (Chapter 1)

I watched the two hottest guys in school square off, bored out of my skull
and impatient with the both of them.  I knew that, being a freshman, and
their being seniors should have put awe in me, but it didn't.  Not any more
at least.  Every day the two of them would have a pissing contest in this
spot.  This very spot.  Did it have to be this spot?

"You winked at my girl, greaser," the tall blond quarterback warned.  "I
should pound you here and now."  He was absolutely perfect in face, hair,
physique, and popularity.  He had the most beautiful girl in school as his
girlfriend, and the most popular guys as his friends.  His name was Todd.
Yeah, perfect name, too.  He made everyone swoon, myself included.

"I always wink at your girl, golden boy," the darker haired one said.  Mark
had jet black hair, a leather jacket, and jeans.  He was always in trouble.
A few of his gang, like himself, were still in school.  Some had been
kicked out, some just stopped going, and some had never gone.  Mark didn't
have the body that Todd had, and Todd could probably beat Mark in a fair
fight.  But Mark would never fight fair.  He would have some hidden weapon
on him right now to give himself an edge.  And, if he lost, Todd would be
in more trouble from the gang.  Todd had more personal muscle, but Mark had
an army outside the school.  It garnered him a lot of leeway.

Mark was right, he did always wink at Todd's girl.  Todd knew it, and
resented it.  Despite Todd's good looks, Mark outclassed him in getting
girls.  Mark was raw and unbridled sexual energy.  He was Lancelot to
Todd's King Arthur.  The girl they were fighting over...I never even caught
her name.  Never cared.  She was the stupid piece of ass making the hot
guys hate each other.  She was leading them both on, but not giving either
of them what they wanted or needed.  I'd put out for either of them, if
they'd ever take me.

But not right now.  Right now they were just pissing me off.  I finally
just lost it.  "Enough, the both of you!" I shouted at them, stepping
forward.  "I've had just about enough of this same fight every day in this
same spot!"  The two of them were staring at me like I'd grown several
extra body parts, all of them deformed.  I didn't care.  "Every day you
argue right here, and I've been watching this whole school year, hoping for
just one day off.  Either beat each other up and get the aggression out of
your systems or drop it.  This whole thing is annoying."

"You don't have to watch," Mark said.  "Nothing's forcing you to stand
here."

"Besides, you're just a freshman," Todd said.  "We don't have to do
anything you say."

Mark raised his eyebrow. Todd was agreeing with him.  I saw the change of
direction come over his face immediately.  "Why does it bother you so much,
kid?" he asked.

I shook my head.  "You two can kill each other all you want, and I don't
care," I told him.  "But you fight here every day, in this spot.  That's
why I'm mad."

Mark looked at his surroundings and then back at me, smiling.  He got it.
Todd didn't.  "What's so special about this spot?" he asked.

Mark asked the right question.  "Which one of these lockers is yours, kid?"

"That one," I told him, pointing to it.  They both stood to one side of it.

"We can't be blocking you every day," Todd said.

"Yes," I told him.  My voice showed how tired I was now.  "You do.  You
somehow manage to stand in those exact places every single day.  I don't
know how you do it, but you do."

I walked up to my locker and opened it, with the two of them just flanking
me, not sure what to do.  At that moment, with them both standing there, I
could feel both of them, inches from me on either side.  I could smell
Todd, scrubbed clean and lightly-cologned; and Mark, the scent of gas and
leather all over him.  Their breathing sounded like I had one at each ear.
It made me start to breathe faster.  My heart raced.

"You ok?" Todd asked.  He put a hand at my back.  I jumped and leaned
forward.  My locker was the top of two, and my hands gripped the bottom of
it to keep me from falling down.  I could feel myself getting longer and
harder in my pants.  Mark put his hand on my shoulder and the feeling grew
more intense.  I was now sweating and rock hard.  I could feel every
movement in my penis.  Every rapid breath I took rubbed it a little against
my pants, made it more alive.  My heart was going crazy.  I finally just
blacked out.

***

"Richard, wake up," a voice told me.  Strong, commanding, yet gentle at the
same time.  I could feel it inside me caressing the inside of my skin.  I
writhed with the pleasure.

"Doctor Lassiter.  Should I..." it was a young voice, something closer to
my age.  He'd obviously been shushed, and for good reason.  I opened my
eyes and saw the two males in the room.  One was tall and lean, but square
jawed and good looking for his age.  Late 40s, I'd say.  The other I
recognized.

"Shawn," I said.  I had a couple of classes with the sophomore.  He was
blond, but in a soft and boyish way.  Cute didn't even begin to describe
him.  Adorable was closer to the truth.  My voice was dry and cracked, but
I spoke anyway.  "What are you doing here?"

"My mom's a nurse here, Rich," he said.  "They let me come along to make
sure you had someone you recognized, and..."

"Enough for now," Doctor Lassiter told him.  "Don't upset him."

"What's wrong with me?" I asked.

"I'm not sure," Lassiter said softly, looking at his clipboard.  "I only
know the symptoms I've seen, and they don't match anything I've ever heard
of.  You went into a fit as soon as you passed out, and the boys carried
you to the nurse.  When the nurse touched you, you screamed in pain, but
the boys didn't hurt you when they touched the same spots.  The nurse had
to have them help with the exam so she wouldn't hurt you."

I was having trouble taking this all in.  "The nurse was too rough?" I
asked.

"No, not at all," the doc said.  "Even the lightest touch made you scream
in pain.  The boys were holding you down to keep you from hurting yourself,
and you seemed to be comforted by that, but you were still having tremors.
Then the nurse did something unconventional, which I still need to speak to
her about.  Lucky for you, it worked.  She called in classroom after
classroom of students, and had them all touch your hand, one by one.  Every
girl made you scream in pain, but you had no reaction to the boys.  Then
Shawn came in.  His touch not only calmed you, but kept you from having the
fits.  He's been holding your hand since then.  They brought both of you
here."

I only noticed then that Shawn was, in fact, holding my hand.  I felt an
instant tenderness for this boy who was spending hours just to help me out.
"Thank you," I told him with a weakened smile.  I was calm, but very tired.

Doctor Lassiter opened the door and beckoned at someone outside.  In
moments, a second bed was wheeled into the room by a male orderly.  Shawn
was ushered onto the other side of the bed, keeping in physical contact
with me at every step.  I started to understand when they wheeled the bed
next to mine and put blankets on it without moving me over to it.  I wasn't
being wheeled out.  Shawn was going to be here a while, and they wanted to
keep him comfortable.

Shawn was assisted onto the bed, without breaking contact with me.  An
orderly then removed his left shoe and sock and brought out a string.  He
tied my ankle to Shawn's close enough that our feet would touch.  "Let go
of his hand, Shawn," Lassiter instructed.  Shawn let go and I still felt
fine.  Lassiter smiled.

"Excellent.  Now you can both use your hands to eat or play cards or do
your homework, without breaking contact.  I'll have some meals sent up
shortly."

The door closed and Shawn looked at me.  I could see the worry in his eyes.
"I'm sure I'll be alright," I told him.  I smiled gently.  "Now that you're
here to help me, I'll get better real fast."

"But..." Shawn's blue eyes started to water and he trembled a little bit.
"Why is it me who makes you feel better?"  He looked afraid of the answer.
His fear made me think there was something important about him he wasn't
saying.

"What are you scared of?" I asked him point blank.  He flinched back at the
question and his eyes grew wide.

"I'm not scared," he said quickly.

"Alright," I said and closed my eyes.  I was too exhausted to argue with
him about the emotions he was giving off.

***

The orderly woke me up from my light nap when he came in with our food.  We
ate in silence as Shawn kept up his skittish behavior.  After we ate, I
looked over to him.  "Interested in a chat yet?"  I asked.

Shawn kept quiet.

"Whatever it is you're hiding is probably what's keeping me alive," I told
him.  "But I need to sleep some more.  Decide for yourself whether your
secret is worth my life or not."

He didn't have a chance to tell me anything then, because I dozed off
again.

***

The next time I woke up, it was dark outside, and only dim lights were in
the hall.  I had the feeling like I was about to start purring like a
contented kitten.  The feeling was coming from my chest.  Reaching for it,
I felt a hand there that wasn't mine.  Shawn was asleep, but his arm was
under both sets of blankets and inside my hospital gown from the side.

I felt a joy I'd never experienced before.  It was keeping me comfortable
and highly content, but I was still tired.  Possibly even more than before.
I reached for the call button and a nurse quickly popped her head into the
room.  I held my finger to my lips and pointed to Shawn.  Then I pantomimed
writing and she nodded.  She came in a couple minutes later with a pad of
paper and a pen.

As she handed me the pen, her finger grazed mine for a second, and the
excruciating pain almost made me cry out.  By the look on my face, she saw
how much it had hurt and she got an apologetic look.

"I just wanted something written down for the doctor," I whispered.  "Some
things I've noticed.

She sat down next to me and was ready to write.

"His hand is on my chest right now," I told her.  "Skin to skin.  It
feels...well it feels amazing, like joy is pouring into that spot.  I'm
relaxed and happy, but I'm still tired.  Even more tired now than I was
before.  Every time I wake up, I have less energy.  I think touching
him...it's like pain relief, but it's not fixing the problem."

She finished writing and gave me a soft, but worried smile.  "Anything
else?" she whispered to me.

I didn't want to be a snitch or anything.  I hated snitches.  But this
time, it could be my life on the line.  I nodded to her.  "He's hiding
something," I whispered with a brief glance at Shawn.  "There's something
he's afraid to say, and I think it's what's helping me."

She gave a quick nod of understanding and jotted that down as well.  "Do
you need anything before I go back to my desk," she asked softly.  I shook
my head.  She reached out like she was going to give me a gentle pat, then
caught herself in time.  She was a definite caretaker.  I could see in her
eyes how much it pained her seeing someone getting weaker and not knowing
what was wrong.  She gave me a smile that didn't reach her sad eyes, and
left the room.  I went back to sleep.

***

I woke up again to hushed voices and sunlight.  I was extremely tired.
When I looked at the clock, it was after four in the afternoon.  At this
rate, I would probably only wake up one or two more times before I died, or
at least went into a permanent coma.

In the room stood a very tall and skinny redhead.  I'd seen him before at
school, but I didn't even know his name.  It only took a few seconds of
conversation and the book bag in his hand to realize he was bringing Shawn
homework.  "Hey," I said.  My voice felt and sounded raspy.

Shawn looked at me, but I couldn't read his expression.  "Good morning,
kid," the redhead said to me.  That one wore one of the widest grins I'd
ever seen.  He was definitely cute in a lanky sort of way.  "I hear you've
been asleep since yesterday.  Lazy."

I could tell by his expression and tone that he was playing, so I laughed
along with the joke.  "I'll show you lazy," I said, then immediately my
eyes rolled back and I fell to the pillows like I was passed out.  Shawn
jumped and his hands were on me immediately.  I couldn't keep from smiling,
which set me off to giggling.  Shawn gave me a light smack on the arm, but
the redhead was laughing loud enough to wake the entire hospital.

"I like this one, Shawn," the redhead said, wiping his eyes.  "He's funny.
Keep him alive, ok?"  He looked to me, still smiling.  "I'm Kyle," he said.
He reached out his hand for a handshake.  I took it, but felt nothing bad
or good from him – just a hand.  He was gentle with the greeting.

"I'm Rich," I replied.  "But you probably already knew that, being at my
bedside and all."

A small laugh escaped from him, and he never stopped smiling.  It was
definitely sexy.  "Well, you didn't react to me, so I guess I'm not special
like my buddy here," he said.  "Don't know what kind of magic you have in
you Shawn, but Rich is sure lucky you have it."

I hadn't realized Shawn had been holding my hand again until he nearly
crushed it with his sudden terror-grip.  "Shawn!" I hissed at him.  He
glared at me quickly and then noticed he was hurting me, and let go.  Our
feet were still touching, so it was ok.

Kyle raised an eyebrow, but kept his mouth closed.  "I guess I'd better let
you get to your homework," Kyle finally said.  He pointed at me before he
left.  "You just focus on getting better, kid."

The door closed and I turned to Shawn.  "Spill it," I said.  I wasn't
playing around anymore.  "This silence has to stop if I'm going to live.
Whatever you think is making you special, I need to know."

"There's nothing," he said, looking down at the book bag in his lap.  "Drop
it."

"Please," I said softly.  "You don't know how tired I am.  I feel like I'm
only going to wake up one more time, and then I'll be a goner."  It took
more energy than I should have expended, but I reached for his hand.
"Please save me, Shawn," I pleaded.  "I don't want to die."

I felt the tears coming down steadily, but I couldn't sit up any longer.  I
fell back to my pillow.  I felt like sobbing, but I didn't have the
strength.  I just let the tears flow.

As I was falling asleep, I felt him wiping my cheeks.

***

It was dark again when I woke up.  I had no idea what time it was, or even
what day.  Shawn was sitting up, cross-legged, his hands in his lap,
holding mine.  He was crying.  I couldn't sit up.

"I'm sorry," I croaked.  "I don't want to make you cry."

He gave a couple sobs, mixed with ironic laughter.  "I'm holding things
back that might keep you alive, and you're the one apologizing," he said.
I didn't respond.  I didn't have the energy to dig for answers.

His head snapped up when I wasn't speaking, but when he saw that I was
still looking at him and alive, he settled.  "I'm queer," Shawn said
softly.

The pieces fell into place immediately!

"Kiss me," I told him.  He tilted his head as he looked at me.  "Don't
waste time," I ordered.  "I don't have the time to waste."

Darkness was closing in, and my only hope was my hunch.  I didn't think he
was going to, but just as I was about to pass out, probably for the last
time, his lips touched mine.  It was like fireworks exploding through my
body – painful and wonderful at the same time.  Life poured into my
body, like a bucket of cold water on a hot day.

I gasped a deep breath and Shawn jumped back.  I sat up quickly, breathing
fast.  Without waiting, I grabbed Shawn's head and pulled him in for more.
I kissed him like I needed his lips to survive, which I felt was true.  The
energy was pouring over me steadily, and I drank it in.

When I stopped for air, we both fell back to our beds, panting.  I laughed
out loud I was so happy.  I heard a small giggle next to me.  Shawn was
lying on his side, grinning at me.  I sat up and smiled at him.  "Guess
what," I said.  "Me too."

The door opened and the nurse barged in, about to reprimand Shawn for
disturbing the patients, but when she saw me sitting up and smiling, her
jaw dropped.  She ran straight to her desk and picked up the phone.  I
giggled back down to Shawn.

A few seconds later, I had another convulsion and passed out.

***

When I woke up, Shawn's hand was on my chest again.  It felt amazing.  "How
long was I out this time?" I asked.  I still had energy – more than the
last time his hand was on my chest.  I stroked his hand and smiled at him.

"About a minute," he said to me.  "The seizures tend to come when we break
contact.  So I'm sorry, but I have to keep touching you."  He didn't look
sorry.  He was beaming.  He leaned in to kiss me again, and I felt more
than just energy this time.  I felt what people are supposed to feel from
kissing: excitement, pleasure, romance.

When he broke the kiss, I giggled again.  "You're really cute, you know
that?" he said to me.  I felt the heat rise in my face.  He stroked my
cheek with his free hand.

"You're beautiful," I said to him.  "You're so pretty it makes my heart
ache."

His head dipped and I could see a tear fall onto the sheets.  "You don't
think so?" I asked.

"It's not that," Shawn said softly.  "I've pretty much accepted that fact
by this point.  About twenty girls a day tell me.  After about the
thousandth one, I finally just said `fine, I'm pretty.'"

"Then what's wrong?" I asked, but I understood as soon as I asked.  "It was
all girls," I said softly.  "It was what you wanted to hear, but never who
you wanted to hear it from."  I placed my fingers under his chin and raised
it so I could look into his beautiful blue eyes.  "Well, this boy thinks
you're heart-breakingly beautiful."  He hugged me tightly, and I could
actually feel his gratitude and relief pouring into me.

It was during that embrace that the doctor walked in.  Over the next half
hour, we filled him in on every last detail we had figured out.  He thought
about it for a few minutes and then looked at us.

"I think I have a better idea of where to look for answers now," he told
us.  "In the meantime, I'm going to leave instructions for the nurses to
make sure you two continue to remain together and in contact.  And, if your
energy gets low, Rich, you'll have to kiss."  There was no judgment at all
in his delivery.  It was all completely clinical.

"So this is ok to do?" Shawn asked.

"I'm a doctor," he pointed out.  "My concern is for the health of my
patients.  If these activities will help my patient recover, then they are
good.  If they harm my patient, they are bad.  End of story.  I'll deal
with the riff-raff who would rather see you die than engage in any
homosexual activity."  The man neither smiled nor frowned as he talked
about it.  It was like sexuality of any sort had no purpose in his moral
code – it just existed.  "You two get some rest now," he said.  "I'll be
back first thing in the morning."

He closed the door behind him and Shawn gave me a sideways glance.  "I'd
like to try something," he said.  "Take off your gown."  He made sure his
foot was touching mine, then he took off his shirt, obviously expecting me
to listen to his instructions.

"I only have underwear on under this," I protested.

"What part of what's been happening makes you think that would bother me?"
he asked.  Point taken.  I removed my gown and was now bare from the waist
up.  He was only half able to wipe the grin off of his face so he could
explain his plan.  "You know how my hand on your chest makes you feel, and
what kissing seems to do, right?"

I nodded.  "You're going to do both at the same time?"

"Not exactly," he said, and his grin came back in full.  He grabbed my arm
and pulled me to him so that our bodies were pressed together: chest to
chest, stomach to stomach, his arms wrapped around my back.  Only then did
he kiss me deeply and passionately.  Where the kiss had felt like someone
poured a bucket of energy over me, this was like a fire hose.  My brain was
already putting pieces together, but I shut it up.  I really wanted to
enjoy this.  My hands overcame the initial shock, and they went directly to
exploring Shawn's torso.

We didn't explore or kiss very long, but it was wonderful while we did.  I
was still too tired and weak to keep things going very long, so I fell
asleep entwined in Shawn's body.  It was in that position that the nurse
walked in in the morning to bring in our breakfasts.

I hadn't seen this one before, and she looked at us with disgust.  "I read
Lassiter's orders, so I won't stop you, but this is unnatural."

"So is whatever disease I have," I told her.  I was trying to at least make
her think of this clinically.  "If it would make you feel any better, you
can just tell yourself that it's a strange treatment for a rare disease."

"Or you can stop being a hateful bigot," Shawn added.  "Your job is to care
for your patients and make them feel better, not treat them like crap for
being different than you.  If you can't improve your bedside manner, you
should probably rethink your career choice, and send us a nurse who can
actually do the job."

She left our trays on the moving table and left the room quickly.  I didn't
know Shawn had that side to him.  I wasn't sure whether to be impressed or
scared.  "Where did that come from?" I asked him.

"I don't know," he said softly.  "Until last night, I was afraid to admit
that I was gay, and now I'm fighting for gay rights.  I think I was just
sick of being bottled up.  It's people like her that make people like me
afraid of our feelings.  The way she looked at us...it made me sick."

"Well, I'm glad you're on my side," I said with a grin as I leaned forward
to pull our table over.  The nurse had left it at the foot of the bed.  I
figured I still had a few hours where I could stay disconnected from Shawn,
with all the energy he'd given me, so a few seconds to crawl over and get
the trays would be fine.

"You've got a cute ass," he told me, and then: "and your back blushes when
you get embarrassed.  That's cute too."  I felt the heat in the room rise,
and I couldn't help grinning like an idiot.

I got back to our side by side position with our trays and he put his head
on my shoulder.  "I'm glad I could make you smile.  We all thought we were
going to lose you.  When you were awake, you were always so sad."

I took a bite of my eggs and then squeezed his hand.  "I know I was out
most of the time.  Did I have any visitors?  The only person I remember
being here was your friend Kyle."

I had to wait for him to finish chewing, then he said, "your parents were
both here.  Your mom almost had a breakdown when she found out she couldn't
hold your hand.  She had to settle for putting her hand on your dad's
shoulder while he held your hand.  She said she was sending you her love
through him.  Your brother Noah called from college and I got to talk to
him a couple times.  Those were weird.  He seemed more interested in me and
what I thought of you than in your welfare."

"Noah's always been a bit overprotective," I said.  "But he really cares.
He was probably making sure you didn't hurt me."

Shawn nodded, then went on.  "A bunch of freshman girls were through here,
too.  They all like you, poor things."  I punched his arm and he laughed.
"They were so sad that they couldn't touch you, too.  They thought I was
practically Jesus for staying with you 24/7 and keeping you alive."  He
gave an ironic snort.  "Apparently most of the school thinks I'm basically
a saint right now.  If only they knew the truth."

I chuckled.  "Steamy make out sessions save lives."

"I'm afraid not," said Dr. Lassiter from the doorway.  He carried an old
book and a folder of papers.  Coming into the room, he took a seat on the
edge of the bed, since the chairs had been removed to accommodate the
second bed.

"You figured it out?" I asked.  He nodded.  "So I can be cured?"

"I don't know," he said simply.  "There hasn't been a case in sixty years,
and then sixty years before that, and so on.  The different time frames
make the recording of it and understanding of it difficult.  I'd dismissed
it because the previous cases dealt with men who couldn't bear the touch of
other men and would go into seizures without contact to women.  As far as I
can see, you're the first gay male to get it."  He looked at me about to
react badly and held his hand up.  "I doubt there was any particular reason
for you, only that eventually it was bound to infect someone gay."  It made
sense.  The disease was randomly hitting men once every sixty years, so
odds said it would hit a gay guy at some point.  Lucky me.

"So how did I get it?" I asked.

"I have no idea," the doctor told me.  "No one has been able to establish
that, nor have they been able to duplicate it.  The good news is that it
doesn't spread.  No one can catch it from you.  However, there are several
new variables to consider with your case's variation."

"Meaning some of your information might not be the same because he's gay,"
Shawn said.

"Will I live?" I asked.  I ignored Shawn's remark, since it was obvious
this was a new twist on this disease.

Dr. Lassiter looked directly into my eyes, which unnerved me.  "Your
survival depends on what you're willing to do, and what others are willing
to do for you."

"Whatever you need, I'll do it," Shawn said.  "I can't let you down now.
Not after...you know."

The Doctor held out his hand to stop us from going any further.  "I'm not
going to sugar coat this, boys.  Richard here can only survive with sex -
in his case, sex with a male."

***

End of Chapter 1

And so begins my return to Nifty.org.  It's been a while.  You can check
out Godsend farther (much much farther) down in the Sci-fi/Fantasy section.
I can be reached at academygm@hotmail.com if you want to give me a shout
out.  Just happy to be writing again.  I've missed it.