Genital Gymnast

The Genital Gymnast - Part Four

THE GENITAL GYMNAST Copyright © 2005 by Jerry Leckie — A well-endowed high school athlete, who considers himself straight, has resigned himself to being appreciated only for his "equipment," when he suddenly finds himself falling into an unexpected relationship with a fellow jock.

You may download my writing for your own reading pleasure; however, you may not place my writing on a website or reproduce stories for distribution without my permission.

WARNING: My short story fiction deals with very mature subjects and with explicit language, some of which is of a sexual nature. If viewing such material is illegal where you live or if viewing such material would be offensive to you, please click on the “BACK” button of your browser NOW to return to other sections of the web.

THE GENITAL GYMNAST - PART FOUR

==================================

From Part Three, Chapter Nine -   After his last class, Joe had warmed up for gymnastics practice in the weight room. He was returning to his locker when a red-faced and agitated Cliff grabbed him by the shoulder. "Joe, I can't stand by and say nothing anymore. Randy is my friend. We've known each other all our lives. And I don't like you corrupting him."

Knowing full well to what Cliff was referring, Joe asked blandly, "What are you talking about?"

Cliff's voice rose a decibel. "You know what I'm talking about. I heard you two talking in the locker room Friday afternoon. And I saw you kiss him. Well, he's straight. And, I don't like the idea of you turning him into a faggot."

Joe's stomach clinched and turned sour. Their secret was now public knowledge. Shit, he thought. Trying to remain calm, he looked Cliff in the eye and said, "I'm glad you're his friend and care enough about him to try to protect him. Why don't the three of us get together, maybe tomorrow after last class and talk it over? Then, I think you'll see he doesn't need protecting, at least not from me."

Still seething, Cliff gave Joe a last death stare and stalked off.

Joe didn't have a chance to speak to Randy before practice began. It took all of his concentration to remain calm enough to perform the various exercises up to his usual standard. He did notice that Cliff did not have an opportunity to chat with Randy either.

After practice, Joe delayed his boyfriend until they were the last to leave the gym, and told him about his conversation with Cliff. Randy was very disturbed at first, unhappy that they had been found out and reluctant to deal with their relationship as an open secret. But, Joe convinced him in short order that a conversation with Cliff might keep their relationship under wraps, at least until graduation.

They parted in the student parking lot, with Randy still in a moderate state of agitation. Joe hugged him and returned to the gym to retrieve his forgotten backpack.

About one o'clock in the morning, Randy was in bed, but not yet asleep. Visions of condemnation from his parents, confrontations with his friends, scorn from his peers, disdain from his coach and teammates swirled before his mental gaze, when the phone rang.

"Randy, this is Stella."

She sounded weird. "What's wrong Stell?"

"Joe's in the hospital emergency room. He's been hurt."

CHAPTER TEN

All of Randy's senses suddenly focused on the telephone, all else forgotten. "How bad? Traffic accident? Are you there now? Talk to me Stell."

"I'm pulling into the hospital parking lot now. Meet me at St. Vincent's emergency room." And, the line went dead.

Randy threw on some clothes and left a note for his parents. Had there been a policeman handy, he could have earned several traffic citations before his automobile screeched to a halt in the hospital parking lot. Red faced and panting, he raced into the waiting room where Stella paced the floor.

She hugged him and sat them down, holding his hand. "He's still in an examination room. Uncle Malcomb--that's his dad--was in with him for a while. The doctor told Uncle Mal that he has no broken bones, just lots of scratches and bruises. But what's worrying them is that he was unconscious when the ambulance brought him in, so they're gonna run some tests."

Randy breathed a sigh. "Aw shit. Do you know what happened?"

"The police said that the janitors at the school found him on the floor of the locker room--with all the lights out--about ten thirty and called 911. It looks like somebody beat him up."

Randy sat up straight, mind racing. "But, he and I were the last to leave the gym around nine thirty."  As a thought overtook him, he put his face in his hands. "Oh my God! He forgot his backpack and went back after it ... and I left him there!"

Stella hugged him. "Oh, don't go on a guilt trip now. You couldn't know that some nut would attack him."

Randy calmed and became more rational. "Was it a robbery or what? Does anyone have any idea why he was attacked?"

Stella heaved a big sigh. "Yeah, they do. His car was the only one in the parking lot, so the cops checked it out. Somebody had scratched 'fag' on one of the doors."

Randy's eyes went wide. "Oh shit ... Cliff!"

"Huh?"

"Cliff Somers. He's on the gymnastics team." Stella nodded, indicating that she knew the boy. "Before practice, he was yelling at Joe for corrupting me. He thinks Joe is turning me from a nice straight boy into a fag."

Stella knitted her brows. "The doctor says that it looked like Joe put up a pretty good fight before he was knocked out. Could Cliff have done this to him?"

"No, they're evenly matched. But two of them could.  Both Cliff and Lynn--Lynn Weston; he's a gymnast too--together could have." He stood and began pacing, shaking his head. "Oh man, I hope it's not them. I've known those guys all my life."

They strolled down the hall to a soft drink machine. "The police must have told Joe's dad that this was a hate crime. Does he know that Joe is gay?"

Stella sighed and chuckled mirthlessly. "Yeah, he knows, but chooses to ignore it. Joe dated a lot of girls until about three years ago. But, just when Uncle Malcomb thought he was going to have grandkids in his old age, Joe sprung the news on him. Uncle Mal tried very hard to be understanding. He didn't scream and shout. He told Joe he understood, but he really didn't. In fact, at family gatherings he'll make comments like 'when Joe marries and has kids ...,' stuff like that. It's driven a wedge between them too."

"Hm, I had sorta wondered why Joe never invited me to his house."

Stella took his hand and started walking back to the waiting room. "If he had, it probably would have been a strained visit. Uncle Mal would see you as a prospective boyfriend." She frowned in thought. "Joe and I have never talked about why he and his dad moved here, but just after Uncle Mal found out about Joe and Brad, they moved. Now, that sounds suspiciously like he wanted to break up Joe's little romance."

Randy began to pace again. He looked at his watch, then motioned toward the examination rooms. "Is your uncle still in there with him?"

"No, he asked me to stay here until my folks come down about seven o'clock."

Randy was incredulous. "His own father wouldn't stay with him?"

"Oh don't worry. Uncle Mal is worried about Joe. He cried like a baby when he saw the condition Joe was in. And, when he came out, he was as angry as I've ever seen him. He could have chewed nails. I've never heard swear words like that."

Randy looked confused and she explained. "In spite of their differences, Uncle Mal loves Joe. And, somebody made the mistake of messing with Mal Foxworth's boy. At this moment he's busy waking up everyone he can think of, and the early edition of the Grant County Times will have a front page article about Joe's attack."

At Randy's surprised look, she continued. "He had to rush back to the paper to recompose the front page." Randy still looked confused. "When the early edition arrives, look at the masthead. You'll see that Gordon Foxworth--my dad--is the publisher and Malcomb Foxworth is the editor." Randy whistled in wonderment.

Stella sighed, heavily. "It's going to get very interesting. When Uncle Mal goes on a crusade, he's like a pit bull that won't let go of a bone." She gave a mirthless laugh. "So you can bet that by daylight the school campus will be crawling with police, Times reporters and several TV crews. The chief of police and the mayor will get no rest until the case is solved."

She gave him a wan smile. "You can feel sorry for the principal and the school board too. Don't forget that the attack took place on school property." She looked critically at Randy. "By the way, were there any adult supervisors in the gym when you left?" Randy shook his head and Stella whistled. "That's bad news. Uncle Mal is gonna go ape shit when he finds out."

A nurse appeared, announcing that Joe was out of Emergency but had been admitted to the hospital. She gave them his room number and said they could visit him briefly until his medication put him to sleep. They thanked her and ran for the elevator.

As they approached the room, a gray haired doctor and a good-looking young, plainclothes policeman emerged. Stella and Randy introduced themselves to the doctor and inquired about Joe's condition. Doctor Kemp said his condition did not appear to be serious, but they had admitted him for tests and further treatment. He politely excused himself and left.

The policeman touched the badge pinned to his coat and introduced himself as Detective Killian. He asked to speak to them as part of his official investigation. Seating them in a nearby waiting room, he began his inquiries.

"Mr. Wade, Joe Foxworth states that you and he left the school gym at the same time last evening and walked to your automobiles in the student parking lot. Then, he returned to the gym to retrieve his backpack. Did you wait for him to return?"

"No, I got in my car and drove home."

"Did you see any other cars in the parking lot save yours and Mr. Foxworth's?"

"No."

"Did you see any other person or persons in the parking lot or close to the gym?"

"No sir. As far as I knew, we were the only ones at the gym. But the janitorial staff was elsewhere on campus."

"When we examined Mr. Foxworth's automobile, we discovered a word scratched into the paint of the driver's door. Mr. Foxworth states that it had not been there earlier. Did you see it as you left the parking lot?"

"No. Joe's truck looked okay. It was parked next to my car."

"The word scratched into the paint was 'fag.'  Mr. Foxworth has admitted to being homosexual.  Mr. Wade, did you know that he was homosexual?"

Randy could feel the heat rising in his face as the officer's questions became more personal. "Yes, I knew he was gay."

"Did you personally object to his being gay?"

Randy looked at Stella and shivered at the thought of making his relationship with Joe a matter of official record. "Hardly, Detective. I'm Joe's boyfriend."

Killian made a note on his pad and continued. "I see.  Is Mr. Foxworth's sexual orientation a matter of public knowledge at the school?"

"As far as I know, no one knows for sure." A feeling of dread began to well in his stomach. "But at least one of the students has begun to suspect and argued with Joe about it yesterday." Randy gave him Cliff's name, address and phone number.

"Do you know whether Cliff Somers might have discussed the matter with any other students?"

"No, I don't. Cliff, Joe and I were supposed to meet this afternoon to talk about it." Randy informed the policeman of his lifelong friendship with Cliff, Lynn and the other members of their social clique. He also gave Killian their names and addresses.

At Detective Killian's question, Randy could think of no other information relevant to Joe's attack. The officer was preparing to depart, when Randy mused, "The doctor said it looked like Joe put up a fight. I wonder what his attacker looks like right now."

Killian's eyebrows went up. "Attackers, Mr. Wade.  Mr. Foxworth said there were two of them. They didn't use weapons--although, they may have had them--; they just used their fists and made some hateful comments. In the darkened gym, he couldn't see who they were and didn't recognize their voices."

The officer smiled for the first time. "After meeting Joe Foxworth, I would be reluctant to challenge him to a fight. So, I'm sure his attackers are licking their wounds right now, and, if we're lucky, they are seeking medical help. We're in the process of checking all admissions to emergency rooms this evening, but so far, nothing looks promising." The detective gave Randy his card in case he recalled anything relevant to the investigation and left them.

When Stella and Randy entered Joe's room, he was awake and tried his best to smile, given the number of bandages on his face. "Heyyyyyyyyy," he crooned, "my two favorite people in allllllll the world," and held out a bandaged hand.

They rushed to his side, both with tears in their eyes. Randy held the bandaged hand tenderly and choked back a sob. "Hey Boyfriend. How you feeling?"

Joe giggled. "I feel fucking great!" He nodded toward the IV drip. "They're giving me some serious shit. Do you know how many drug addicts would love to be on the high that I'm on right now?"

Stella laughed. "I don't know how you do it Joe, but you always see the bright side of every situation. Even this one, in spite of the way you look."

Joe looked lovingly at Randy. "How do I look?"

Randy gave his lover a wan smile. "My dear sweet boyfriend, you look like you've been stomped by an angry elephant." Joe giggled. Randy examined the bandaged hand he was holding. "It looks like you gave a good account of yourself anyway."

Joe laughed aloud. "Who the hell knows. It was pitch dark and we were swinging blind at each other. I think I got one of them in the nuts. And I got a solid punch to someone's mouth, because I felt his tooth cut my hand." Then, he said wistfully, "But, one of them got lucky and clobbered me upside the head ... and the fight was over."

Tears began to trickle down Randy's face and he hugged Joe's hand to his chest. Joe pulled it free and stroked his boyfriend's cheek. "Aw, don't cry Babe. I'm alive and kicking ... well, I'll be kicking as soon as I come down off this high."

Randy tried to smile through his tears. "Did anything the assholes said give ya a clue as to who they were?"

Joe stifled another giggle. "Well, I was sorta busy at the time ... but, let me see ..." The smile slid off his face as his foggy memory began to work. His face took on a sad expression. "It wasn't pretty.  According to them, I'm the Antichrist, who deserves to die. I'm also in league with the Sons of Sodom, or some such. Oh, and I heard your name and some bullshit about not allowing me to drag you into the dark kingdom of Hades."

The hatred implied in those words literally stopped conversation for a minute. At length, Stella kissed Joe's cheek and changed the direction of the conversation. "Mom and dad will be here later, and Uncle Mal will be back sometime today."

The statement sobered Joe a bit. "Dad was here?"

Stella laughed. "I'll say." And she recounted the events before Joe regained consciousness.

"Wow," Joe said in wonder.

Stella continued. "He really loves you Joe. He's on a crusade to find your attackers, and in order to do that, he'll have to acknowledge publicly that you're gay." She giggled. "Think about it Cuz ... Malcomb Foxworth crusading for gay rights."

A chill ran up Randy's spine as he listened to her words. Later in the day, Joe would be outted to the world, out to every reader of the Grant County Times. He looked down at his lover, at the beautiful hard body that someone had dared to deface. He looked into Joe's big brown eyes and into the sweet, joyful soul that someone had tried to pollute with hateful accusations. Joe's life might not be easy at Grant High from now on. Hell, he might even be in danger twenty-four hours a day.

Randy took a deep breath and stood tall, steeling himself for the tasks that lay ahead. Well, he thought, Joe won't have to face the world alone. Holding Joe's hand, he leaned down and gave him a tender kiss on the lips.

At that moment, the door opened. Randy looked up to see his parents enter.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Jack and Bernice Wade rushed to the bedside. Blushing, Randy steadfastly held his lover's hand.

Bernice gushed, "Randy, when we read your note, we came as soon as we got dressed."

Randy glanced at his watch and was surprised to see that it was six o'clock already. He hurriedly introduced them to Stella. Then, Bernice turned her attention to Joe. "Oh, you poor boy; we're so sorry you're hurt; you look awful; how do you feel; what happened; is there anything that we can do for you?" she said, all in one breath.

Joe gave her a confused look through a sleepy grin. Randy chuckled and said, "Easy Mom. One question at a time." He indicated the IV drip hanging over Joe's bed. "He's high as a kite and about to descend into the Land of Nod."

He looked down and, indeed, Joe had fallen asleep. He gently placed Joe's hand on the bed and turned to his parents. "Let's go to the waiting room and let him sleep." He glanced at Stella. She nodded, indicating that she would come along. "We'll tell you what we know up to now."

In the waiting room, Randy and Stella sat facing Jack and Bernice, telling them the story, leaving nothing out. Randy concluded with, "And, when the paper comes out this morning, everyone will know that Joe is gay."

He looked back and forth between his parents. "Mom, Dad, Joe is my best friend." He took a deep breath. "He's more than my best friend. He's my boyfriend. He means more to me than anyone I've ever known. And, he's going to have a rough time of it. He may be ridiculed at school. He may not be accepted by the rest of the gymnastics team. Hell, the assholes--sorry Mom--that attacked him may try to finish the job before the cops catch them. I won't let him go through all of that alone. I will stand by his side."

Jack and Bernice looked mentally windblown, trying to absorb all of the information that had been thrown at them--machine gun fashion--for the past fifteen minutes. Stella and Randy sat like statues, waiting for a response.

Jack took Bernice's hand and looked wistfully at her. She smiled at him. They studied each other for a moment, then he winked at her. Her eyes went wide for a heartbeat and she gave him an affectionate smile. He matched her smile and kissed her. A twenty-year loving relationship had made it possible for them to carry on a conversation without saying a single word.

Bernice gazed fondly at her son. "Over the last few weeks, we've known this conversation was going to happen. But, now that it's here, I'm not sure exactly what to say."

Randy gave her a panicky look, so she leaned forward and took his hand. Looking at him thoughtfully, she continued. "You've been a good son. And, you've proved over and over again that you make mature decisions. That has made us very happy. But, we knew that something was missing that would give you the happiness you deserved. And that made us sad, because we couldn't provide it for you no matter how much we wanted to."

She looked at Jack and he nodded his agreement. "Then, a miracle happened. Randy, you've been happier the last few weeks than anytime in the last ten years. And, it wasn't difficult to figure out that Joe was involved." Now, Randy looked at her in wide-eyed wonder. "We knew you weren't happy dating all those girls." She chuckled. "You would come home from a date smelling like a sex machine, but there was no enjoyment, no fulfillment, no happiness in your eyes. Then, from the first day you met Joe, the contentment, enjoyment and happiness appeared."

Bernice looked once more to Jack for moral support, and found it. "What we're trying to say is, you've discovered your true nature, and we're happy that you are sharing it with a young man as wonderful as Joe."

Jack moved behind his son's chair and encircled the boy in his arms. "Son, we'll always love you and stand by you. We're happy for you Randy and proud of you. You and Joe are top of the line. We couldn't do any better." He kissed his son on the cheek and all four of them wept.

After a few moments, Randy sniffed and said, "Thank you for understanding."

Stella recovered and spoke up. "Let's go have some breakfast. It's on me."

They settled around a table in the cafeteria and enjoyed a well deserved meal. The Wades took the opportunity to find out more about Stella. She told them about her school work, plans for university and aspirations for a career. Then, she told them a bit about her family.

Jack exclaimed, "Oh, I know your father quite well. My law firm represents the Times in litigation matters. I've met Joe's father too, but I don't know him."

He hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Do your parents know that Joe is gay?"

She smiled warmly. "Yes they do. And they know about me and my girlfriend too."

Jack smiled affably, seemingly unfazed by the additional information she volunteered.

Meanwhile, Randy had been thoughtfully munching on his last piece of toast. When conversation ceased for a moment, he mused, "Ya know, the guys that beat up Joe might have actually been trying to kill him, and weren't expecting him to fight back." The other three stared at him in surprise, processing the idea.

Randy continued, "What if they find out where he is and try to finish the job?"

Bernice was trying to get her mental arms around the idea. "You think they might have intended to murder him?"

Randy shrugged. "Who knows, but to be on the safe side, I don't think we should leave him alone."

Stella piped up, "I agree. We ought to set up a round-the-clock watch in his room." She looked toward the door and smiled. "Ah, here come reinforcements."

Gordon and Elaine Foxworth joined them. Jack and Gordon introduced their wives. Randy filled Stella's parents in on everything they knew about the incident. Gordon had been in touch with Mal and the police: Investigators were searching Joe's truck and backpack, the parking lot and gym for clues. Finally, Randy confirmed what Gordon and Elaine had already guessed, that he and Joe were boyfriends.

After everyone had a chuckle over that, they discussed and agreed to set up a watch in Joe's room. Elaine would stay for the rest of the morning, then Bernice agreed to return for the afternoon. Randy sheepishly volunteered to stay the night and everyone suppressed a smile.

Jack remarked, "You have school tomorrow young man." When Randy gave him an Aw Dad look, Jack amended his announcement. "Okay, you can visit for a while this evening, then I'll take the graveyard shift."

Gordon piped up, "Both Malcomb and I will drop by for a while sometime today too."

Stella looked critically at her father. "Dad, answer a question for me. Why did Uncle Mal take the editor's job at the Times?"

Gordon looked at her in surprise, then, understanding the intent of her question, he smiled warmly. "Because I badgered him into it. We love and respect each other, but, as you know, we have totally opposite personalities. And, the last thing I need as an editor is a Yes Man. What do I need is a hard-nosed, aggressive son-of-a-bitch that will tell me to go to Hell when it's appropriate. And your uncle fills that role nicely. He was reluctant to take the job when the vacancy appeared because we are so different, but I prevailed." He concluded with a twinkle in his eye, "So, you can forget the idea that he moved here just to separate Joe and his former boyfriend." Stella blushed prettily at being busted for the real reason for her question.

A delivery boy entered the cafeteria and dropped a stack of newspapers just inside the door. Gordon bought several copies and brought them back to the table. Everyone eagerly read a column titled Student Attacked at Grant High. The first paragraph gave a two sentence summary of the event. The second proceeded with a detailed account of the attack, including as many facts as had been revealed by the police. The third identified the attack as a hate crime, revealing that Joe was gay. The balance of the article, concentrated on Joe's character and school and athletic records, and was embellished with his senior school picture.

When everyone had finished reading, Gordon said, "This is the late City Edition. Read the editorial on page two and you'll see what I was doing until about four o'clock this morning."

Everyone's paper rustled as they eagerly turned to the appropriate page. In moments, their mouths were agape. The column decried the number of unsolved hate crimes at Grant High School over the last four years.

"Jeez," Randy exclaimed, "there's been attacks on gay students each of the last four years. I don't remember hearing about any of these."

"Yeah," Gordon exclaimed, "it surprised the hell out of me too when I ran a search of unsolved crimes in the police department's data base. Something is going on at that school, and Malcomb and I are going to get to the bottom of it."

Reading the editorial suddenly put a damper on the group. Stella yawned and said she was going home to crash. Randy realized that he was exhausted and echoed her announcement.

As he prepared to leave, he gave everyone a hug; then, he turned to his mother. "Mom, can you send Joe some flowers from your shop?"

She grinned. "Sure Sweetheart. And, I'll include a nice card from you." Randy blushed and made a hasty exit.

CHAPTER TWELVE

It was about two hours after sunrise when he arrived home. He stripped to his underwear, fell into bed and was asleep immediately. But, it was not a peaceful slumber.

In spite of his exhausted state, his mind raced with bizarre and freakish images.  Strange looking angels tied him naked to a cross. As they floated above, singing unintelligible hymns, a group of bent and gnarled creatures emerged from a flaming hole in the ground, followed by a grotesque horned creature driving them forward with a whip.

They approached the foot of his cross wearing little more than lascivious expressions, drool running from the corners of their mouths. He immediately recognized them as caricatures of his circle jerk group. Each took its turn gleefully playing with his privates, ultimately masturbating him, slowly and sensuously to orgasm, while the horned creature urged them on with his whip.

Hour after hour, they brought him to the ultimate feeling, with each orgasm being more painful than the last. At each ejaculation, his semen spewed out and turned into white doves, so numerous they eventually formed a snow white canopy over the angles singing above him.

At length, the horned creature approached the cross, red eyes glowing like coals. It spit on Randy and raised its arm to bring the whip down upon his bruised penis. But, before the creature could strike, Randy looked heavenward and cried out for Joe. As the echo of his voice died away, celestial bells began to ring. The angels looked upward and the cloud of doves parted as the tolling of the bells grew louder.

Randy jerked awake. He looked down in confusion at his sweat-soaked body and the sodden mess of semen in his underwear. He shook his aching head, trying in vain to stop the ceaseless ringing of the bells. Then, he realized the sound was the front doorbell being repeatedly pressed. In desperation, he leaped out of bed, removed his underwear and slipped on a pair of dirty gym shorts. Muttering every curse his foggy brain could conjure, he headed for the front door.

He jerked it open to reveal Cliff standing there with tears streaming down his face. The boy held out his arms in a pleading gesture. "I didn't do it Randy. Honest I didn't. Please believe me."

Stone faced, Randy nodded for Cliff to enter. Without further acknowledgment, he turned and headed for the kitchen, Cliff following like a whipped puppy. Randy extracted two Cokes from the refrigerator and threw one to the boy, pointing him to a chair at the table.

Randy popped the top on his Coke and took a swig, staring intently at Cliff. "What are you doing here?"

Cliff wiped mucus from his nose. "I just wanted you to know that I didn't beat up Joe."

"How did you know he was beaten up?" Randy snapped.

"Aw Jesus, the school was crawling with police and reporters this morning. A cop called me out of class and gave me the third degree about the argument I had with Joe yesterday. Later, I found out he talked to Lynn, Isaac, Billy and Tom too."

"If you didn't do it, who did?" Randy demanded. "You're the only one I know of who suspected that Joe was gay."

Cliff bowed his head in chagrin. "That's not exactly true. Friday night the guys came over to my house to, uh, watch videos ... and afterward, I told them about seeing Joe kiss you in the locker room." He looked up, eyes pleading. "But, I just can't believe any of them would hurt Joe. Shit. Actually, me and Lynn like him. And so do Isaac, Billy and Tom; but, not being on the gymnastics team, they don't know him that well. It's just that we don't like him trying to turn you gay."

Randy sighed deeply and some of his anger and resentment fell away. "I don't want to think that you and the guys would beat up on somebody either, 'cause we've got a lot of history. And I appreciate you and them being concerned about me. But, you all are going to have to get used to a new idea: it's not possible to turn someone gay. You either are or you aren't." Cliff started to protest and Randy shushed him. "Cliff, Joe didn't kiss me! I kissed him!"

Cliff stared, open mouthed. "You're gay?" Randy nodded. "But, all those girls ..."

Randy shook his head. "Being gay doesn't have that much to do with who you have sex with." He placed his hand on his heart. "It's what you feel in here! I didn't feel anything for all those girls when I fucked 'em, or when I jacked off with you guys." Cliff's eyes went wide. "I fucked the ladies and let you guys play with my dick because I didn't know what else to do. I didn't know what being gay was ... then, I met a gay guy," his eyes glittered with happiness, "and I realized what enjoyment and happiness and fulfillment -- life -- was all about! Before I met Joe, I was alone in a world full of people, playing the part of the Genital Gymnast. Now, I'm not alone anymore."

He smiled at Cliff, pleading for understanding. "You said that you were my friend. Then, be happy for me Cliff, because this is what I am and this is the life that I have to live if I want to be happy."

The boy stared intently at Randy for a full minute. Then, a corner of his mouth twitched up into a half smile. "Wow," he said quietly. "Well ... I ... I ..."

"Cliff, look at me. I'm the same Randy you've always known, only I'm happy for the first time in many, many years. That's the only thing that's changed," he said emphatically.

Cliff grinned. "And, you have a new boyfriend." They laughed and the contentious atmosphere in the room dispelled. "Okay, Big Guy, you've convinced me."

Randy pounded the table. "Good! Now, let's get back to Joe's attack. While the assholes were beating him up, he didn't go down quietly. He got in some good licks before they--there were two of them--they knocked him out. So, who showed up at school today that looked like they had been in a fight?"

Cliff looked thoughtful. "Nobody that I saw before school started, and nobody in my morning classes. I saw the guys when lunch break started, and Isaac had a black eye. He said his dad hit him." He looked disgusted. "You know what an asshole his old man is."

"Yeah, I do." He felt a pang of immense sadness every time he thought about Isaac.

"Ya know, I was really stoked when I was yelling at Joe Friday in the locker room. So, I was probably loud enough that anyone else in there could have heard what I said." Both boys looked depressed at the thought.

Cliff looked at his watch and stood. "I've got to get back to school. I've missed lunch and the first afternoon class already."

Smiling at his friend, Randy stood and held out his hand. Cliff looked at it, then took the boy into a hug, whispering, "I feel like I'm just getting to know you buddy, and I'm liking it."

Randy hugged him back. "Thanks. Same here." Walking his friend to the door, he added, "Keep an eye out this afternoon for anyone that looks like they've been on the wrong end of a fight. You've got my cell phone number. If ya see any likely prospects, give me a call."

Randy went back to bed and slept soundly until five o'clock. Awakening refreshed, he showered, dressed and made a hasty sandwich in the kitchen. He ate it while he drove to the hospital, this time obeying all of the traffic laws.

As he entered Joe's room, his senses were assaulted by a riot of color and smell; the space looked like a florist shop. He raked the room with his eyes and exclaimed, "Wow!" and burst out laughing. Joe and Bernice joined him.

Joe held out his arms. "Look, I'm IV-free!" he said, happily. Randy moved to his lover and Joe drew him into a fierce hug and kiss.

Randy blushed, glancing at his mother. But Bernice simply smiled. Noticing the byplay, Joe said, "Your mother and I have had the afternoon to talk about some things."

Bernice stood and began to gather her purse and coat. "Yes indeed," she said to Randy, "I have officially adopted Joe into our family. Since he's your boyfriend, I will expect you to treat him openly with all the affection you feel for him." She got an evil glint in her eye. "And, if you don't, I just might replace you with Joe as our number one son." Joe burst out laughing.

Grinning, Randy gave Joe a what-can-you-do look and said, "Well now, I can't very well go against my mother's wishes, can I."

Bernice gave Joe a kiss, then bestowed one upon her son. Giving him an imperious look, she said, "It would not be advisable to ever go against your mother's wishes." Then, she broke into giggles. "Okay, enough of this tomfoolery, I'm going home to fix dinner for Jack." To Joe, she added, "Rest well Sweetheart and maybe tomorrow they'll let you out of here."

Joe smiled lovingly at her. "I will. Thanks for everything Mom."

To Randy, she said, "I'll see you at home before midnight, okay?"

He kissed her cheek. "I promise." And she was gone.

Randy wandered around the room, inspecting the beautiful flower arrangements. There was one from him, one from his parents, one from Gordon and Elaine, another from Stella and Linda, and one from the guys. Cliff, Lynn, Isaac, Billy and Tom each had signed the card.

Feeling a bit uneasy, Randy pointed to the arrangement. "How did they know where to send this?" he asked with a frown.

"Cliff called your mom on her cell phone. When he found out she was here, he asked to speak to me. He told me about his conversation with you this afternoon." He held out his arms and gathered Randy into a slow, sweet kiss. "I guess he went back to school and had a talk with the rest of the guys, because the arrangement showed up about an hour ago."

Randy slowly shook his head. "Man, what a difference a day makes!" He inspected his lover closely. Not only had the IV been removed, but all of the heavy bandages had been replaced with smaller ones or had been removed entirely. "You're looking much better. You think they will let you go home tomorrow?"

Joe's hands began to roam Randy's body. "I think so, but it will depend on whether I get some loving from my boyfriend tonight," he said with a sexy purr. "I haven't had a shower since yesterday morning. Wanna give me a bath?"

Randy's blood began to run hot. "You think you're up for that?" he murmured breathlessly.

Joe's fingers tweaked his boyfriend's nipples. "Well, I am an invalid, so I will need some help." He drew Randy's mouth to his and nibbled lovingly on the lower lip.

"What if someone comes in?" Randy mumbled around Joe's tongue, which had made its way into his mouth.

Joe's nimble fingers had raised the hem of his lover's T-shirt, the better to minister to Randy's prominent nipples. Giggling, his teeth nipped his boyfriend's chin, then he said, "This is a private room for VIP patients. The shower is big enough for four people. We'll go into the bathroom and lock the door." He threw back the covers and grabbed Randy by the hand. "Come on Stud, I'm ready for some loving."

Randy helped his lover out of bed and untied Joe's hospital gown. Shaking his head, he commented, "You're probably the only person on Earth that looks sexy wearing one of these things." As he drew the garment away, he saw the bruises on Joe's body. "Oh my God," he hissed.

Joe immediately busied himself undressing Randy. "I've looked worse than this taking falls in gymnastics." He grabbed Randy's penis and led him into the bath. Kissing his boyfriend, he crooned, "The best medicine I could have right now is for you to make love to me."

Locked in the bathroom, Randy turned on the shower and adjusted it to a warm gentle spray. Grinning sexily, he said, "You've heard the expression 'let me kiss it and make it well.' Let's see if that works."

Circling, touching, caressing and kissing his way, his lips found every cut and bruise on the boy's body. He journeyed from the stitches next to Joe's left eye to the bruise on his right calf.

To Randy, it was an act of worship, paying tribute to the splendid body that clad the magnificent soul of the boy he desired. To Joe, it was a balm more powerful than any medicine, a healing calm to both body and soul.

Desire, an intense fire of emotion, rose in Joe's mind as his lover ministered to him, culminating in a blaze of passion in his loins. Finally, unable to tolerate the stimulation further, he grasped Randy in a fierce embrace.

"Oh, my God, you have no idea what you're capable of doing to me!" he gasped. His strong hands held his lover in place while his mouth ravenously sought the erogenous zones of Randy's body, his tongue rasping, teeth nipping, lips nibbling, until the boy grasped his head in urgent protest.

"Oh please, no more," Randy panted, pulling Joe into an embrace.

As they came together, they felt their hefty erections collide, sending electric shivers through them.

Randy reached for a bar of soap and began to smooth lather over Joe's torso. His dick throbbed uncontrollably as his fingers stroked the strong muscles of the boy's arms and shoulders and the thick plates of his pectoral muscles. His hands were trembling and his breath came in short bursts by the time his fingers found the hard rolls of Joe's abdominals.

Joe stilled Randy's hands, looking down at his lover's erection. Smiling into the boy's eyes, he murmured, "Wash my hair for me please." As Randy reached for the shampoo, Joe sank to his knees, staring at his boyfriend's erection, an inch from his mouth.

Randy smoothed shampoo over Joe's hair, then began to work it in with gentle strokes of his fingers. Joe grasped his lover's hips and took the end of Randy's penis into his mouth, sending shivers of expectation through the boy. He worked his tongue under the foreskin and swirled it around the head. Randy closed his eyes, moaning softly. He instinctively tried to pump his hips, but Joe held him still.

As Randy carefully worked the shampoo into his scalp, Joe slowly sucked and tongued the penis until his boyfriend's legs began to tremble. Suddenly, Joe stood, turned and placed his hands against the shower wall, baring his shapely butt to his lover. Randy needed no prompting. He positioned himself and entered the boy, carefully pressing forward until he was completely inside. Both moaned their satisfaction at the same time.

He circled Joe with his arms and leaned forward, kissing him on the neck. Joe turned his head and murmured dreamily, "Make it slow. You're better than all the medicine in the world."

Randy smiled and began to pump, about an inch at a time, while his hands roamed Joe's chest and stomach, finally settling around his genitals. While his lips showered the boy with kisses and his hips slowly pumped, his hands toyed delicately with Joe's steel-hard penis and tight nut sack. His hand repeatedly captured the constant flow of natural lubricant from the boy's penis and spread it over the head and shaft.

Randy's dick felt like a hot iron bar in Joe's rectum. The boy was a couple of inches taller than him, so every thrust of Randy's cock raked his prostate, sending sparks of lust radiating through his body. And, the play of his boyfriend's fingers on his privates left him breathless with passion, building to a thunderous crescendo.

Joe's body commenced to tremble beneath Randy. The progress of his passion began to gain momentum as Joe's sphincter contracted rhythmically around his severely distended penis. The feeling of his lover's rock-hard cock in his hand played havoc with his emotions. He nipped savagely at the boy's neck and shoulders as his prostate telegraphed its impending orgasm.

Their bodies shivered and shuddered and they growled in low tones, too late to do anything but give in to their unfettered passion. "Ahhhhhhhh," they cried as their nervous systems took them to the summit of human feeling and their loins poured forth the seed of their ultimate desire.

Tears trickled down Randy's face and his breath came in ragged gasps as Joe turned to him. He smiled when he saw his lover's identical response. They came together for a tender kiss, and stood, embracing, until their bodies ceased trembling and their pulse rates returned to normal.

Randy moved them under the shower spray to rinse, and Joe smiled up at him. "Doctor Wade, I think I"m completely healed."

Their eyes feasted on the sight of the other as they toweled dry. After one more brief kiss, they unlocked the door and stepped out of the bath into the hospital room.

Mal Foxworth sat in a chair staring at them with an unreadable expression.

To be continued

Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed this story (or not), tell me about it at jer@jerryleckie.com. I appreciate constructive criticism, and I ignore flames. Please enter the name of the story in the subject line of your e-mail and mention that you read the story on Nifty.

This part of the story and more of my writing is posted at http://www.jerryleckie.com. In addition, you will find stories by guest authors and links to great fiction in a variety of categories: adult, celebrity, college, high school, incest, young friends, science fiction, bisexual, etc.