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.