"YOU'RE A SELFISH FUCKING BASTARD!"
Wylie was Screaming. Drunk and numbed to any verbal assault. If Wylie left now or at least stopped shouting maybe he could get back to the memory. Back before all this...
"I'm not selfish. There are more glasses inside. Help yourself." With that John filled his glass from the now almost half-empty bottle. His speech was not slurred. His coordination was fairly well intact. Worst, Wylie's tirade was coming through loud and clear. He added enough to reach the brim of the glass.
"You know what I mean. This morning; Miss Mary. You asshole! She wanted to share her grief, let you share yours. Instead you acted like it was just another day. John, can't you see there are other people hurting just like you? No, you selfish bastard. You wont look. Youre too busy blaming yourself and feeling sorry for yourself. Its all about you. Isnt if John. Even with us, it was always about how I hurt you."
John resented being forced from his drunken reverie. He was sobering faster than he wanted. He was sure that last statement raised his ire... numbness... another drink? He hadn't touched the last one yet. Was Wylie winning?
"It's my fault. So many times I could have done the right thing. After a heavy sigh and a gulp of whisky John continued, "I remember when it all started, right here, at the boat house." He realized he had been shouting to match Wylie's volume. Why? It took too much energy... If Wylie would just leave him alone... "Right here on this deck. I hurt him, I remember thinking I would rather die that hurt someone so innocent. I hurt him every time I hid our relationship. Every time I was telling him I didn't love him enough. Every time..." John choked back the memory. He fought the urge to crumble. To just give in to his emotions. A sob. "Now, I can't hurt him anymore."
Wylie roared with anger, kicking a chair aside he overturned the table sending the bottle, glass, ice bucket, cigarettes and table scattering across the deck. He was clearing a path to John. John's face registered only mild surprise. His head turned to follow the path of the whisky. Wylie's momentum carried John up from the chair to the deck railing. John offered no resistance. His only response an, "oomph" as the railing and Wylie forced the air from his lungs.
Wylie's left hand wrapped around John's throat. John's flesh next to those fingers whitened as Wylie tightened his grip. His right hand drew back, forming a fist as it went. John watched. His drunken brain only half registering Wylie's pending action and his own lack of oxygen.
He spat, "You're pathetic, you don't even have the balls to fight." "You disgust me." Dropping his fist and releasing John`s throat, he turned to walk away.
Looking back he saw John... Even as his lungs sucked in air, even as his hands tried to soothe his throat. his eyes searched for the bottle.
Fury boiled with Wylie. Rage blinded reason. With a roar and a surge of adrenalin he grabbed a fist full of John's shirt, a fist full of crotch he twisted and lifted John's unresisting body through a "clean and jerk". Rather than hoist John overhead, Wylie tossed him into the lake.
Spitting, sputtering and coughing John tread water. He never looked at Wylie. Clumsily he swam to the ladder. Wylie was there to greet him. As John put a water logged boot onto the deck, Wylie pushed him back into the lake. John surfaced once again choking, spitting and coughing lake water.
"Have I got your attention?"
John didn't look up. Instead he grabbed onto the ladder. Resting on the ladder, without looking up "Yes, god damn it. Now let me get out of here. We can talk... If we have to."
As John's foot was landing on the deck, Wylie reached out and pushed him in again. This time even as he spit and sputtered, his eyes glared daggers at Wylie. "Are we gonna talk? Or are you gonna pull that same bullshit you did this morning? What's it gonna be John? Drown or talk? I got time. Make up your mind. You can swallow half the fucking lake. I got all day."
With glaring eyes, through gritted teeth, "Yes, you sorry bastard. We'll talk. No bullshit. Now let me get out." Wylie nodded. Only then did John attempt to climb the ladder.
Wylie was there extending a hand. John accepted. Wylie pulled him onto the deck and into an embrace. John wrapped his arms around Wylie and rested his head in the crook of Wylie's neck. John sobbed once then began pushing away. Wylie held him. Face to face John started to speak, but what came out was a projection of whisky, lake water and bile. Wylie released his hold. John turned and deposited the rest of his stomach's contents into the lake.
Wylie placed a comforting hand on John's shoulder. Once finished John stated flatly, "I tried to warn you."
"I figured you were just trying to get away from me again."
John looked Wylie up and down, then at himself. "Surprising how much an empty stomach can hold. Let's get a shower and some clean clothes before you lecture me. Ok?"
"It's a deal. If I don't get out of these clothes soon, I'm gonna return the favor."
They stripped in the master bathroom and showered without talking. They both wore the same size so it was simply a matter of choice. Both in jeans with polo shirts. They were comfortable with each other. In silence they moved to the great room. John settled near the corner of the leather sectional. Wylie gave him a glass of water and four aspirin.
"John you think that if you were living openly with Gordy he would have been a good boy and stayed home. Think he would have chosen college, instead of the Marines. Hell, John, Gordy was his own man. He stood against you, his dad and his mother when he chose to delay college for a year. He did that to be with you. You think if you hurt him or embarrassed him he would have done that? Then when he chose the Marines over college. Fuck! Everybody he knew was against it. If he was gonna be a pussy and fold, he would have done it then. Shit! John you didn't even talk to him for two days. That hurt him. That was the only time you ever hurt him. John I loved Gordy too." Wylie's voice broke. "BJ... he...he... worshiped his uncle Gordy."
John slid around until he could put his arms around Wylie. "I know. I know." John found himself comforted by Wylie's misery. Comfort in comforting. He suddenly felt very much the "selfish bastard" Wylie had, so rightly, accused him of being."
"Wylie, I know I got wrapped up in my misery. Thinking I was the only one hurt. That I was the only one who would miss him. I'm ashamed of the way I treated Miss Mary. "Wylie, I don't think I can face her again." Again, John fought to hold back the pent up emotions.
Wylie was calmer now. The surge of adrenalin had sapped his strength. "You two were good together and good for each other. It was like you two were meant to be... hell, your fathers were lovers." John's jumped up as ig the cushion had bit him in the ass. "What are you saying?"
"I'm sorry John. I shouldn't have said anything. You going off the deep end has fucked up my world. I can't eat. I can't sleep. You won't talk and I, I... I just don't know anymore." Wylie leaned forward, put his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.
John began pacing. His mind was racing. His father, Doc, Wylie, me, us, DAD!
"Wylie, how do you know this? Are you sure?" John had to sit again. The pacing was making him dizzy and threatening nausea. Wylie raised his head. He interlaced his fingers. His eyes focused somewhere short of infinity. His voice was flat as if reciting an uninspiring passage.
"Remember you asked me to go through your father's desk and separate things. I found a bunch of letters and a journal. I read them. Shortly after the funeral I gave them to Doc. They had been lovers from their teens." They were still in love when your father died."
He let John absorb this revelation. He saw John trying to reshape his father's memory. Just as he had. It would take more time than they had. "The point is that your father understood our feelings for each other better than we did. He discussed this with Doc and they discussed you and Gordy. Of course they really discussed Gordy's feelings for you. It was all in the journal."
"John, I know you, you'd like to go off somewhere all by your lonesome and think this stuff through. That won't help. You'd like to think it would. But, that is one of you biggest flaws. You have to let this go for now. I can help you with it, in a few days. That's in the past. Right now it's the immediate future you have to face. Let it go. John. Just let it go." As Wylie talked his voice rose in pitch until the last was a high whine.
"How did my life get so fucked up. You and I we got together through happenstance. I thought I had it all. Even when we lost it. I didn't know how to get back to you like that. There were more than a few times I wanted to. I wanted what we had. Even after all this I wouldn't trade what we had for any other life. For a while there, I thought we were gonna live that "happily ever after" stuff.
"You're not the only one with a fucked up life. I let the only man, the only person, I ever loved get away. If he were dead at least I could mourn. Instead he's just out of reach... and has been since college. I used to think about sending flowers or candy. I had and still have no idea how gay couples make it happen. I mean, was it the same as with a girl? If I could have figured out how to get back to where we were..."
Wylie rested his left knee on his right. His left hand laid on his left thigh while his right hand picked at the hem of his jeans. "John, I never told you why Maryanne left me." His eyes followed his fingers tugging at the hem. "I stole a pair of your dirty boxers. Mary Anne had taken BJ and gone to her mother's. BJ got sick so they came home early. I had jerked off and had fallen asleep with your boxers over my face. That was when she left me. I thought I had lost BJ forever."
" Since then we have talked about you and me. She thought it was crazy to make love to someone and not be able to talk about it. She was right. We've actually become good friends. She confessed that right from the start she was tearing each condom. I never noticed. Having BJ in my life has made up for it. She says we, she and I, have to tell BJ I'm gay. I think he's old enough to understand. It'll be ok. His best friend has two Daddies."
John and Wylie shared a small chuckle at that last statement. John moved to the kitchen and put on coffee. "Now that she has remarried, she seems content. She glows with love. She loves her job, her husband is a nice guy and she has a great kid in BJ. It sometimes hurts when I see her happier now than I have ever seen her. I almost wish I could have made her feel like that."
"After you and Gordy got together I wanted to hate him. From that first day, I knew he was after you. He asked me if you were available. I felt like he was asking if I was ok with it. Wylie paused. After you two got together, I could see what I was missing. Not just the sex, but someone to love. Someone who could and would love me back. I tried hard to find that for myself again."
He paused, as if summoning something from deep inside. "Men tend to have sex early in a relationship, if not before. I was no different. There were men in my life. I don't think you knew that. Gordy did. He knew how I felt about you. He didn't resent it. He even pointed out men who seemed to be interested. Gordy wanted me to be happy. Hell, Gordy wanted everyone to be happy, like him. Remember Jeff Higgins? Football coach. Died in a car wreck. We broke it off about six months before he died. Remember Phil Wages? Gordy said he was licking his lips as he watched my ass walk away. The sex was good and we enjoyed the same things but he sold out and returned to New York. Still stay in touch even though he found a new "Friend". He's always asking me to visit so he can do some matchmaking. So, now you know."
Silence hung heavy. Both suddenly found it hard to breathe.
John felt his chest tighten. Nausea swelled as he pictured Wylie in some other man's arms. He wanted to run. To escape the madness that seemed to come from all sides. Gordy... his father and Doc... Wylie and another man!
"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!"
John was as shocked as Wylie looked. He didn't remember getting up, but, here he was facing a bugged eyed Wylie.
"IS THIS SOMEBODY ELSE`S FUCKING LIFE?"
He wiped away the spit that escaped along with the last shout.
"Does everybody I know feel they have to lie to me? Can't I be trusted with any honesty! I feel like some fucking Cowboy Hamlet? My best friend who happens to be the love of my life tells me for the first time ever he has been in love with me for ten fucking years. Except the last time we had sex he raped me. Now he tells me he is trying to love somebody else. He now has a wonderful son who just happens to have been conceived through treachery. My Dad fucked the Veterinarian for most of his life, the same veterinarian who set me up with his son except he didn't want to set me up he just wanted his son to go to a better college. Except he didn't go to college instead he joined the fucking marines. His son, my lover apparently knew most of this shit and didn`t bother to tell me? John collapsed onto the sofa, exhausted. It occurred to him exhaustion might become a persistent condition. He wanted a drink.
Resting his head in his hands he muttered. What else don't I know?"
"Well, Larry, our parts manager and Fred have been fucking for over twelve years now. Suzy, has a gay son in Las Vegas. Bill the service manager has been living openly with that new Dentist for over a year now. I think that pretty much covers the gay thing. Hell, our best new mechanic wears a rainbow wristband. I think he's interested in me... but he's too young. Maybe when he's older." Wylie was enjoying sharing these revelations because he heard the best news ever while john was rambling. He'd also heard disturbing news. But, like John's news about his Father, he would deal with that later. "I'm hungry." With that Wylie moved to the kitchen in search of food.
Wylie suspected the aspirin and purging had improved John's physical state. He cooked an omelet and served John a small portion along with toast explaining, "You haven't eaten for about a week... that I know of , so don't push it. I don't want to have to clean up after you. You look like shit. But then a diet of nicotine and Jim Beam tends to have that effect."
John, cautiously, took the first bite. Sensing no immediate ill effects he took another and then addressed Wiley, "It hit me hard. I had thought that what I had with Gordy would last a lifetime. Even after he left, I thought there would come a time when I would be able to say the things that would bring him back to me."
He held nothing back. As he shared the meal with Wylie, he shared his truth.
"I would come close to being ready to live my life with Gordy openly. The smallest thing would make me withdraw. I was, still am I suppose, a coward. Gordy, accepted my fears, he never scoffed at them. Gordy was not a fearful person. Never recklessly, but he always challenged his fears... spiders, snakes, skydiving. He approached all these with trepidation, but he overcame them. He never learned to like spiders or snakes, he just learned to better understand them and not fear them. Skydiving? He learned to love."
"I knew what we had was special, but it was never really the way he wanted it to be. Remember when I told you we were going to Denver for a week? We went to Paris." John eyed Wylie carefully, when he saw the memories flood Wylie's eyes he reached over and took his hand. "Wylie, what we had was good. Paris with you was something I always dreamed about. For years, I wondered, if we had, would we have lasted longer."
"I think Gordy knew our time was short, precious even. You know I never saw Gordy ever look around to see if someone would guess the truth about us. He seemed to always be relaxed and focused on us."
"When he left, for the Marines, he explained it was something he had to do. We held onto each other for ages. Maybe it was just me, not wanting to let go. I guess I knew early on, that if I could have lived with Gordy openly, he would have been much more satisfied. I think my fears were something he wanted me to face. He tried to help, pushing a little, but never challenging me. I blamed myself for his leaving. We kept in touch and when he would come home, it was like he never left. Until he went back this last time. He never asked me to come to him. Did you know that?"
"Even now I think if I had said the right thing, he would still be with me. Today, I realized that may be true. But only maybe. Gordy was always his own man. That phrase "his own man"... humph... seems everybody that loved him knew that about him. He was the first man I ever wanted, after you and me. If he hadn't been so bold, so matter of fact, about it, it never would have happened. After we got together that first time, he seemed always sure of himself. New situations, for him, were not intimidating. They were learning experiences. He embraced them. After that first time, he was never the shy, hesitant little boy. That part of him disappeared that night. The blush would come. He hated that. But that blush only meant he was embarrassed." John stared down at his plate as his fork moved the last bite of omelet in a repetitive figure eight.
"John you don't realize it, you gave that to him. You gave him courage to face his fears. He told me how afraid he was of your rejecting him. He didn't make a move on you out of fear. He pushed as much as he dared. He told me he jerked off three times that day. On the deck, in the shower, and in Millers' men's room. Someday you're gonna have to tell me what happened on the boat. He just said it was magical and you were magnificent. I didn't doubt any of it. I've been there myself. I'm just curious."
"John, Gordy's biggest dream was to be with you. His greatest fear was you rejecting him. When you two got together his greatest fear was defeated. He realized that with a little courage, he could deal with any of his fears. As far as his leaving, he didn't leave you. He had no intention of ending what you two had. We talked about that. He felt he had to do what he did. He put off college to get closer to you sooner. He knew he had to do the military thing. He wanted to get it out of his system. He planned to return to college after his stint in the Marines. It was not that he loved you less. Once he had enough of the Corps he would use don't ask don't tell. He didn't give a rat's ass what anyone thought. He believed there would come a day when you would be ready to live life openly. He expected, and very much wanted, to be there with you and for you. He didn't plan on getting killed."
Wylie hurried to continue, afraid of his own and John's reaction. "You can ask his Dad. We talked the day we heard the news. Doc doesn't blame you in the least. Gordy and he had talked about his going for almost a year before he decided he had to go. Miss Mary knew it at least a month before he could bring himself to tell you. He talked to me about it the day before, he told you." John's face soured. Wylie cut him off again, "Don't get on your high horse. The boy needed to sound out what he would say to you. He wanted to convey his need and wanted your support and understanding."
"Seems your reaction was less than he'd hoped. You were always ready to blame yourself when things went wrong. Sometimes I wonder how you manage to succeed in business with that attitude. Guess you hide it better with those that don't know you. I figure, the truth got lost between his needs and your fears."
"While he was gone, Gordy never looked for and never found anyone else. It was always just you and him. He just needed to do what he had to do. You have to accept that about him. You know it's the truth and you have to realize that blaming yourself is just another way of hurting, because you miss him. Now it's late, you got to sleep on what I told you... all of it. Let's go to bed, I'm exhausted."
They moved to the master bedroom and stripped in silence. Wylie waited until John was in bed to go lock-up and turn out the lights. By the time he returned, John was asleep. Quietly, he joined him under the covers. He wouldn't think about the man next to him except as a friend in need. With that, he pulled John into his arms and held him as sleep claimed another.
It was bright morning by the time Wylie awoke in a panic. John was gone! Throwing back the covers as he sat up, he froze with the covers still in hand. John was sitting in a chair, drinking coffee.
Seeing that Wylie was awake he approached the bed bearing a second cup of coffee. "Here, I know you like to wake up slowly. Where you going in such a hurry?"
"To look for you."
"You found me, now what?"
"Well, first let me get my heart back in my chest, drink this coffee and then figure the next step."
John smiled an honest smile, the likes of which neither had seen in a long time. "Wylie, I have a lot to make up to you. I have been too selfish for too long. If it's not too late I would like to once again be worthy of your friendship and maybe someday, worthy of your love."
"John, I have loved you since our freshman year. There was a long time I couldn't face that fact myself. After our first Christmas, on the ranch, I was going to confront you. Tell you I loved you and make you tell me too. Mary Anne changed that. How could I expect you to know how I felt if I was too cowardly to tell you. Then Gordy changed it again. Through all those changes, I suppressed my love for you but it never died.
"As to how we feel right now? I don't think this is the time to make any drastic changes. Changes we might regret later. I have told you how I have felt. That hasn't changed. I lacked the courage then to tell you I love you. Later, it seemed the time was never right. If you had ever once responded to one of my many innuendoes I was ready to tell you I loved you. Then you found Gordy. I thought you were out of reach forever. Let's see if it's right for both of us. Time will tell. I can wait. God knows I have. Right now you have Gordy and Doc and your Father. That's a lot. That`s enough."
"John, since we are being candid, I have a question. Did I really rape you?"
John moved to sit on the bed. Each sipped coffee while John considered his response. "Wylie, I remember how deeply I loved you. I think I knew you felt the same. The night Mary Anne told you she was pregnant. I'm sorry, I should have said "expecting BJ". No, BJ wasn't in the picture. It was you and me and Mary Anne."
"Let me start again. The night Mary Anne told you she was pregnant, you came in very drunk. John recounted every detail that led up to the rape, finishing with: Then you kissed me. I returned the kiss. That was the first time I ever kissed a man without being drunk or pretending I was. It was liberating. I didn't care if the whole world new I was a cocksucker. You, you were drunk. You wanted to make love to me, and I was more than willing. If kissing you while sober made me feel this way, I couldn't wait to find out how getting fucked sober would make me feel. I was so in love with you Wylie. I would have sucked your cock in the middle of the quad if you had ever asked me while we were sober."
This last phrase was meant to lighten Wylie's mood. It failed. It was too close to Wylie's truth. "You pulled out a little bottle of Vaseline and ripped off my boxers. Then reality struck when I touched your cock, you snarled. You flipped me around like a sack of potatoes until I was on my hands and knees. I realized that you didn't want to see my face while you fucked me. You kept ranting as if I was Mary Anne. Wylie we almost never fucked like that, doggy style. We needed to see each other, to see that it felt good. That night you didn't care. I watched over my shoulder. Without ever looking at my face you touched your cock head to my hole and rammed it home. I bit my fist to keep from screaming. I still have the scars." John glanced at his hand holding the coffee cup. "It hurt like hell. I thought I would have internal injuries. It took forever for you to cum. I never got hard, while you were inside me. You never touched me. I mean you held my hips and pounded away, but you never once touched my body. When the pain lessoned to where I knew I wouldn't scream, I cried. I didn't hold back, I couldn't, my heart was breaking and I was being raped by the man I loved. By the man I thought loved me.
When it was all over, I asked you what had happened. You repeated what you had said the night before, "I fucked up our lives. I love you, John. I am so sorry. Last night Mary Anne told me she is pregnant." I jumped back like you were a fire and I was getting burned. If the physical pain was unbearable, the emotional pain was pure torture. You asked me then if you had hurt me the night before. I think I laughed and told you had only hurt some of the furniture."
John, watched as tears rolled silently down Wylie's checks. He sat his coffee cup on the night stand and left to take a shower. Later, Wylie came into the kitchen to find John ready to serve waffles, eggs and bacon. Wylie couldn't decide if he should stay or go. John's story had shaken his world. He had stayed in the shower scrubbing himself vigorously. Even after his skin was red and the water was cold, he scrubbed. Now facing John, he felt he needed another shower.
"Wylie, I got to go to see Gordy today. Will you go with me? I can do it alone, but I need someone I can lean on. Will you go with me?"
"If you need me, I'll be there. I want you to know my intention has been that you show up today. I heard you tell Miss Mary you would be there. I made up my mind to make sure you kept your word to her. She knows you loved Gordy. Maybe not how deeply or the nature of your relationship but she would be sorely hurt if you didn't come."
Wylie paused.
"John, I know words aren't enough, but, I am so sorry. I can't understand why I would do something so awful to the man I loved. I feel like a fool now. Here I have been literally begging you give me the love I feel for you, when I killed your love all those years ago. You're a better man than I am for being able to even stand the sight of me. I'm not sure how I would have handled being raped. I remember the loving kindness and support even after..." With that Wylie broke down and collapsed into a chair and held his head in his hands. His body racked by sobs, "I'm sorry John. I thought I cried it all out in the shower. I feel so dirty, so ashamed. Why don't you hate me?"
"I could have... very easily. I think I did off and on. I didn't tell dad about the rape. I told him you came in drunk and seemed full of anger and hatred. He told me it was a combination of self-hatred, anger at Mary Anne and anger toward me. It was he who insisted that he and I show you love and support. He told me, "John, Wylie needs you now more than ever. Now he needs his brother and his Dad. Let's be there for him. I know he would be there for us. Don't let me down and don't let Wylie down. If you do, son, you will live to regret it. I know you may be hurt and angry now but that will pass. Now go help your brother."
"I didn't like it, but I understood and I gave him my word. You know looking back he did so many little things to show me he understood about us. Guess I was just to blind to see. Anyway, After we`d talked, I couldn't help but wonder why you would be angry with me. Then I realized that I had never told you I loved you. I was never willing to approach you sober. I was the reason you had fucked Mary Anne. If I had said, just once, "Wylie, I love you and want to build our lives together." You could have had a choice. Then I understood that while you were more angry with yourself than anyone, and probably more angry with Mary Anne than me. I was there. I was a target of opportunity. You couldn't express you anger to a pregnant woman. So you took all your anger out on me. I forgave you after the conversation with dad." John had moved to stand behind Wylie and had laid his hand on Wylie's shoulder. "Wylie, it could have been me that got a girl pregnant."
Once John had his say, Wylie stood and searched John's eyes. Finding only love and forgiveness he embraced John tenderly. "John, I am so sorry. I didn't deserve the love you and your dad gave me. I do love you so. I understand better now than ever, where we stand. Thank you for being honest."
The day grew with soft conversation and quiet company. Nothing hurried nothing rushed. John learned things that Gordy shared with Wiley, while he was away. Fears in combat and fears for John and Gordy's future.
About two o'clock they got into Wylie's truck and headed for Doc's. There was a crowd of vehicles with the sheriff's office controlling the parking. As they approached the house, Wylie noticed Doc talking with some men just outside the barn. Wylie took John's arm and nodding toward Doc said, "Let's go say hello to Doc."
Side by side they saw Doc's face haggard and careworn. John was shocked to see how old he looked. The smile was warm and sincere, but did little to lighten the impression of a tired, old man. At their approach he stepped forward and hugged John tightly, whispering, "I am so glad you came, son. I've missed you."
Stepping to Wylie with a similar embrace, he whispered, "Thanks for bringing him." Turning back to the others he said, "If you fellows don't mind I have to talk to these boys a bit. Ya'll go on up to the house and get some food. We'll be up shortly."
The men greeted John and Wylie as they passed. Soon the three stood alone. Doc said, "Come with me boys. I have something for each of you." They followed him through a side door of the barn. Just inside he turned to another door which opened into an office. "Boys, Gordon gave me letters to hold for him. They were to be given to you once he got home. I don't know what they contain. I don't need to know. These letters have been changed out from time to time. The outdated ones were destroyed without reading. That's how Gordon wanted it. If there is something I need to know, I am sure you will tell me. I am asking you not to read them until you get back home. I`m going to ask something else. I want you two to be in the same room when you read these. I know what he had to say was personal to each. I'm not asking to share what the letter contains. Just share the experience." He handed each a plain manila envelope with their names in Gordy's handwriting.
He approached a large safe. John thought it contained controlled medication. Doc opened it and extracted a box. John recognized the box as one he had made in shop class as a working project. He had recieved an A and had proudly given the box to his Dad. Doc handed him the box. to John said, "You may have an idea as to the contents. Wylie knows most of what's here. I am asking you not to open this box until sometime after I'm gone. If by chance you go before me give it to Wylie. Then with a snort, If by some miracle I outlive you two. Send it back to me, unopened. Can you boys do that?" In unison, "Yes sir."
"John, I know you blame yourself. I'm just as sure that Wylie has told you no one else does. Gordy was a man of his own. I am forever grateful for the time I had with him. He taught me more about love and being a man, than I could have ever hoped to teach him. He loved you more than life itself. What he did, was not to leave you or punish you. He tried to tell you, it was for him. He had to go. If you punish yourself, know that you are demeaning all that Gordon was."
"Now, you boys go on up and say hello to Miss Mary. She will be pleased you're here."
Together the three walked up to the house. Doc was greeted by a couple of men approaching. "Miss Mary, is most likely where I left her, first room on the right. John and Wylie went through double oak doors. The doors opened onto what was originally a breezeway. Turning right, they entered the sitting room through open pocket doors.
The room was lined with ladies; some sitting, some standing. Most holding plates or a glass or both. All seemed to be chatting slightly above a whisper. Some looked up at the men entering. John recognized most and nodded to some, knowing those he missed would not be offended. He was not here for them.
His scanning eyes halted on an semi-circular arrangement of chairs against the far wall. He focused on the old lady in the center. She seemed familiar, he just couldn't place the face. He froze as recognition set in. Wylie gripped his bicep. John used his free hand pull Wylie's away. Instead of dropping it, he guided it down until it brushed against his hand. Once he clasped Wylie's hand in his he moved toward the old lady. She called his name. He didn't recognize the voice. This voice was raspy, broken. Not melodious, like, like "Miss Mary?"
As she spoke he moved toward her. She, using the arms of the chair to raise her stocky frame. John released Wylie's hand and moved quickly to put his arms around her and help her stand. In his arms now, he bent his head to rest his cheek against hers. Choking through tears he couldn't control, he tried to say. "I'm so sorry. Miss Mary, I'm so sorry."
"John, I'm so glad you came. Son, Gordy loved you so much. Please go see him. I know he's waiting for you."
Without warning she collapsed. Before he could react Wylie swept her up in his arms. Someone directed him into the next room, where he laid her on a daybed. Calls "Get Doc. Someone get Doc." John followed, dazed he saw Wylie patting her hand and heard him ask for a damp cloth. John watched as three people swept past him asking, "Someone need a doctor." One he recognized as Juan, Conchattta's son. As he passed he gripped John's arm in recognition and sympathy. Juan nudged Wylie out of the way and knelt to examine Miss Mary. John watched Doc approach the bed. John took his breath back when he heard the broken voice form earlier say, "I must have fainted. I'm alright." He heard the relief in Doc's voice as he murmured terms of endearment. Wylie was beside John and tugging him, leading him back into the breezeway. Handing John a handkerchief worriedly, his voice a plea, "Are you alright John?"
John nodded, not yet trusting his voice. He moved toward the room across the hall from the sitting room. Reluctantly, Wylie released his hold. Wylie admitted to himself that John didn't need him here. He could do this alone. He made a move to head for the porch. He was shocked when John took his hand and moved toward the library.
A warmth flooded Wylie's being. He was not embarrassed. Not at holding hands with a man in public. Holding hands is not a comfort in grief. Not between two cowboys. His face reddened in guilt. He was embarrassed that at such a somber and painful moment as this, he could feel such... such love. John was making a statement here. One he couldn't make when Gordy was with him. Now he had the courage. That courage John denied he had. Gordy, Wylie, Doc and John's father all knew he had it. It was only an issue for John. He had, in the simple act of taking Wylie's hand, challenged and overcome his biggest fear. Gordy would have been proud
The library was lined with books. The coffin, was against the far wall. It was draped in the American flag. There were two young marines standing as Honor Guards. A red, white and blue blanket of flowers was set behind the casket. At the head was an almost life sized photo of a blue-eyed, blond Marine, with a brilliant smile. Tears washed John's cheeks again as he squeezed Wylie's hand. He stepped forward. The fingers of his free hand touched Gordy's smile then swept his cheek. He rested his hand on the coffin lid for a moment, before pulling Wylie into his arms. "It hurts so much, Wylie, it hurts. He's gone. He's gone." They clung to each other. Several minutes passed before John regained control. People came and went. Some touched either Wylie or John or both, all expressing, silently, there compassion.
Even after John was ready to break the embrace Wylie held him. John was almost surprised to see Wylie break down. He held him and let him cry, let him express his own grief and sense of loss.
John led Wylie to a bathroom off the breezeway. Inside he left Wylie only to lock the door. He then proceeded to wash Wylie's face and his own. Wylie all the while whispering, through choking sobs, how proud Gordy would be of John. "Wylie, you will never know how much you being here with me means to me. I know you can't even express your feelings for Gordy because you know I would break down. I wish I had your strength. John wrapped his arms around Wylie and whispered, "I have always admired you. I have always loved you. Right now I am in love with you."
"John." Wylie broke their embrace and stepped back. His look was disbelieving. "John", he began again, "You're overwhelmed. This is too much for you right now. It's too much for me too. Let's say our goodbyes and leave." John only nodded and followed holding Wylie's hand as they sought out Doc. Miss Mary, had recovered and Doc assured John he would say goodbye for him. To Wylie, Doc said, "I never doubted your love for Gordon nor for John. Gordon understood and knew if this day ever came you would be here beside John. He's counting on both of you to be strong enough to do what your heart tells you." He hugged each warmly. No whispers this time. He knew they didn't need more words, just each other.
They drove away in silence, each within himself. Not until they were on the drive to the boathouse did John softly ask, "Wylie, will you stay with me?" Wylie replied, "I intended to. I don't want you to be alone tonight."
John was a little disappointed with the reply but said nothing except, "Thank you." Then added, "I don't think I say that often enough to you. But, I didn`t mean just for tonight."
"John what you don't pay me to do. That is, whatever I do that is not in my job description I do because I love you. I've never expected you to say thank you for something that brings me pleasure. The job, although a great one, is only an excuse to be near you. I hope to hell we don't wind up too embarrassed to even look at each other. I`ve had offers over the years but I feel like this is home. You and Dad settled that years ago."
"Wylie, it was a long time ago, but I recall a time when things got hot and heavy between us and we had our tongues in each others assholes. Now, if that didn't embarrass us enough to make us want to avoid each other, what could we say or do that would?"
The shared laughter was honest and welcomed. It was welcomed and cleansing. Tears threatened both their eyes but they would have been joyous; not painful.
The laughter faded into a comfortable silence. Wiley was the first to break it, "We should have stopped in town and got something to eat. I just realized I'm starving." Having just arrived at the boathouse, neither wanted to drive back into town.
"How about grilling some steaks. I can thaw them in the microwave. They may not be as good as your omelet, but I am pretty good on a grill."
"How can such an intelligent man be so misinformed. The poison control center is on hot standby when you boil water. When you cook 911 calls you. No thanks Mister. I'll grill. You can make a salad if you promise to wash your hands first, no telling where they've been."
"Wylie Keys! How the hell can you talk like that. If it hadn't been for my cooking you would have starved in college."
"John, the only thing I remember you serving me in college was your hot ass and lots of tube steak."
Once inside they found shorts and pullover shirts to replace the suits they had worn to pay their respects.
When John pulled steaks from the freezer and placed them on the counter, Wylie handed him a drink. "John, are you sure? We don't have to drink whisky."
"Wylie, I drank for the pain. I needed it for the pain. Now, I simply want it. I know I could drink any number of things. I want a drink to share with you. You can watch me. Watch out for me. I won't mind."
Wylie smiled a loving, understanding smile and handed John his whisky.
Looking down at the steaks on the counter, he pointed to the abattoir's logo. The photo resembled the couple in the painting American Gothic. This couple had the same dour looks on their faces but were clad in western outfits. Wagging his finger at the couple, Wylie said, "John, I'll bet there is something you don't know about this photo. It's a sad, sad story really."
John was about to suggest he'd had enough sadness to last a lifetime without adding more. When he saw that Wylie was deeply affected by the story he was about to share, he didn't have the heart to resist.
"They look kind of sad already. Don't tell me it gets worse."
"'fraid it does. See, they didn't have sex before marriage and he didn't tell her he had a big dick. She didn't tell him she didn't like big dicks. They had a miserable life."
"John had almost been ready to offer a sympathetic condolence when it hit him. He'd been had. The incredulous look he showed Wylie burst the dam. Wylie laughed and pointed at John's face. He guffawed, he snorted, he roared. He held onto the countertop with his left hand and held his side with his right.
His laughter died a sudden death when John soaked his face using the kitchen sink spray nozzle. Wylie choked, spat and sputtered while John continued to spray his face. Wylie tried to wrestle the nozzle away. The best he could do was get his face out of the line of fire. At last the water works were doused. John gave Wylie a kitchen towel. As Wylie dried his face John muttered, "Should have fucking drowned your sorry ass like you tried to do me. You sorry sack of shit. You had me. I was already with the sympathy shovel. You Asshole!"
He turned back to the counter and unwrapped the steaks. Sticking them into the microwave, he set the timer. Turning once again to Wylie, who was now mopping the floor with the kitchen towel said, "I hope you know I can never let Paul deliver any more beef here or the ranch. Even though he buys our cattle. You've ruined it for me."
Wylie had mopped the water from the floor and draped the towel over the trash can.
Taking a still protesting John into his arms, Wylie asked "What more could I have ruined for you?" Wylie's face was kissing close. John tried to hold the recalcitrant look. "I can never look at that packaging or Paul, for that matter, without wondering if it's true. That's all."
"Wondering if what's true?" Wylie began nuzzling John's neck. "If he has a big dick. I think if I see him again I'll have to ask if I can see it. I've never seen one in person."
"I can show you mine." still nuzzling.
"That's what I mean. I've seen your's. But, I'd really like to see a big one. Just once."
Wylie jerked his head up and held John at almost arms length. The question on his face was still forming on his lips when John smirked and said, "gotcha!"
"Wylie's question faded into a smile. He leaned in and for the first time in many years kissed John's lips. He didn't press, didn't tongue, didn't linger. When he broke the kiss John still had his eyes closed. Wylie smacked him on the butt and mumbled, "Smart ass." then headed out to the grill."
John would have reacted sooner but he was busy savoring the promise behind that kiss. Preparations for dinner were well underway when John come onto the deck with another drink for himself and the chef. Placing a hand on Wylie's shoulder said, "You can relax. Look, if I get drunk you have my permission to ravage me. It would serve me right."
Wylie cocked an eyebrow and with a leer in his voice, "I would have you know sir, I have extensive experience in ravaging Further, I have reason to believe it is to be considered a reward, not a punishment." Then with some hesitation he added, "in most cases."
"Perhaps, like wine, you've gotten better with age. I don't recall being a good at ravanger, as one of your strong points."
"You never complained. Besides, how good could any ravaging be when both parties pretend to be dog drunk? My claim stands, uncontested."
"Touché, imagine how much better it could have been if we could have accepted ourselves and each other."
"John, maybe we'll find out, when the time is right."
John, wistfully asked, "You still don`t think it is, now? I mean us?"
Wylie, standing over the grill, reached out and pulled John into his arms and looking into his eyes said, "It won't be long now." Kissing John quickly on the lips and before John could react he smacked his ass with the spatula. "So get the platter."
John, fetched the platter while trying to understand what was happening; Gordy, his breakdown on the road, holding Wiley's hand at the Belser's, and now his flirting. It all seemed somehow surreal. Even the jokes about ass fucking seemed right... almost. From the depths of despair to, to, anticipation in what? Forty-eight hours? Maybe he was schizophrenic? It just seemed so right... like coming home after being gone a long, long, time.
Dinner conversation was light, a little business a little gossip but no mention of Gordy, no double entendres. Just a pleasant dinner. John had two drinks before dinner, wine with dinner and seemed satisfied, much to Wylie's relief. John wasn't a good liar. Still Wylie had been a little doubtful.
The conversation dragged and they were tired and decided to go to bed. Again they were in John's bed, both naked, neither excited. Lying on their backs John took Wylie's hand and held it. "Wylie, I want to thank you again for being here, I mean with me today. I can't imagine getting through this day had it not been for you." Fighting dreaded emotions, he continued, "I loved Gordy so much. If it hadn't been for you last night I'm sure I would have gone on blaming myself. You saved my life. I know, eventually the guilt combined with losing him, would have killed me."
Wylie pulled John into his arms. "John, if anything happened to you I don't know what I'd do. I loved Gordy. Not like you did, but I loved him, more like I love BJ. Gordy was like a kid brother. A more intelligent, more handsome, rich kid brother. Hmmm, Come to think of it I never really liked him at all."
The laughter was again welcomed. Albeit different in that instead of fading into a comfortable silence as earlier, this laughter faded into sobs. John chided himself. He was shocked to realize it was Wylie.
John wrapped his arms around him and rocked him, not unlike a mother rocks her baby. "It's alright Wylie, go ahead and cry. I miss him too. It's alright, you'll feel better. Believe me, it helps, more than you know."
Wylie's sobs continued unabated despite John's rocking and cooing. John' own tears came, brought on by Wylie's pain. By the time Wylie was in control, John's tears had long since dried. He continued to hold Wylie close. Wylie uttered a cleansing sob and tried to sit up. John refused to release him.
"John, I'm alright now. You can let me go. John? Are you asleep? I said you can let me go now."
"What if I like holding you? What if I want to hold you? Ever think I might need to hold you?
"Well I thank you for holding me. You have no idea how good it feels. There was no place I would rather be. But, John if you don't let me go I am going to pee all over the both of us."
John's searching hand made contact with the wet end of Wylie's engorged cock. His palm cupping the cockhead, his fingers played along the shaft seeking a purchase. "Aha. I knew you were kidding. You're cock's too hard to pee."
While John was holding evidence of Wylie's aroused state. Wylie sought and found a John' own throbbing appendage. John would have considered complaining except Wylie's lips were now pressing against his. When John opened his mouth it was promptly invaded by Wylie's tongue. John drew in a sharp breath which only brought Wylie's tongue in deeper.
Wylie began to tweak John's nipples, first the left and then the right. He tugged on John's curly chest hair on his way to stroke the turgid member again throbbing in anticipation.
John was moaning with each stroke. The tongue wrestling was of Olympic caliber.
Wylie broke the kiss with, "John, I need you to fuck me. Please fuck me." John could hear the urgency, the need in Wylie's plea. He reached into the nightstand drawer for Vaseline.
"No John, you can't. Please, don't. No lube. I haven't been fucked since the last time you did it. I need to know how I hurt you. I love you. Let me feel your pain. I need this. You need this. We need this." John couldn't believe what he was hearing. He tried to pull away. "Don't wimp out on me. If we have a chance to be together, it has to start here. I can't live knowing I hurt you. You have to do this. Please."
John began to protest but Wylie's kiss wouldn't let him. Wylie used all he remembered about John's body to bring him back to lust. John wanted to love Wylie to make love to Wylie. Wylie`s every touch of fingers and tongue brought back the burning passion they had shared... the magical newness of first love.
John's heated brain moved his body in a lust filled haze. He moved Wylie onto his hands and knees. "John, I have to go pee, uh, before." John moved back and Wylie rolled out of bed and padded to the bathroom. A splashing stream, a flush and Wylie was in position again. He lined up his cock. He let his spit drool onto his cock head. He smeared it around and along his length. A second droll and more spreading. This time he lined up and asked, "You ready?"
In answer Wylie dropped his right shoulder and reached between his legs with the dry wash cloth. He vigorously dried John's cock, "Now I am." John resigned himself. He had no choice. Once his cock head touched Wylie's pucker, he rammed for entry. He felt the skin of his cut cock being stripped away by Wylie's ring. Wylie stuffed mouth with as much pillow as it would hold. Still he screamed. John was less than half way in. Wylie had buried to the hilt with his first plunge.
The muffled scream took John back. Ruefully he thought, `I had no pillow. I have the scars to prove it.' He remembered that night. He was ready to make love to Wylie. Have Wylie make love to him.
He remembered how Wylie had ignored his very presence. He was just a hole. Now Wylie was just a whole.
He blocked out everything He was fucking "HIM"! Him... who had hurt John`'. Him who destroyed their lives. With a single powerful thrust he rammed balls deep into HIM!!
He considered nothing but the sensations his cock was bringing. He fell into a steady rhythm. Unhurried, relishing every gyration of movement bringing incredible sensations of the most intimate skin on skin but with an exhilarating sense of power.
In... and out.... In and out...
He could feel that hot hole clinging to his cock on the out stroke. That same tight fiery ring fighting every millimeter when he was penetrating.
It was a battle and By God!... HE would be the victor this time. This time HE was fucking HIM !!!!!!
He felt his balls draw up. The exquisite ring electrified his cock.
HIM tried to escape. John held him, refusing to let him crawl away.
He knew he wouldn't last long. He pounded that ass with everything he had. He pounded that ass. This was VENGEANCE!! And it was fucking sweet!
He was close. Nothing could stop him now. Not the cries... not the screams... not the far off sound of his own name. Faster, faster so fast that everything was a blur. His body became a blur blending the past the present and the future all in this one glorious fffffffuuuuckkkkk.
He closed his eyes and surrendered himself to his coming. When it hit him, he felt his balls jerk so hard he felt the dull thud against his pelvis. It hurt sooo goood!. He felt his cock swell against the ring. The ring grew tighter and increased the already maddening pleasures he was receiving.
He snarled... He yelled... He howled... He smacked that ass. The echo off the walls called to him. He smacked that ass again. Again yelling, "take that bitch! fucking bitch! I'm coming. Take it bitch! take my cummmmm!"
And it was over.
Once he came, he collapsed on top of Wylie. He didn't remember changing positions but apparently they had collapsed the doggy position. He lay stretched out on top of Wylie.
John lifted himself and pulled his softening cock out of Wylie's ass. Then he flopped onto his back beside Wylie. Careful not to touch him. He wasn't sure how Wylie would respond. Even though this was Wylie's idea.
He waited. John's patience went unrewarded. What seemed like hours was only a few minutes.
John had to pee. That made him smile recalling Wylie's previous need that started this physical reunion. He moved to the bathroom and turned on the light to clean up. He took his bloody cock in hand and froze. It wasn't his blood! "Wylie! Wylie!" He was in a panic.
He turned on the bed lamps. Wylie lay as he had left him. He half expected to see blood pooling between his legs. He looked closer and saw only smears of blood and cum.
He shook Wylie. He called his name. He put his head against Wylie's back to make sure he was breathing. He heard even steady breathing.
Had Wylie blacked out from the pain? Suddenly he remembered what he had done to Wylie. He couldn't take time for shame or regret! Not now.
He ran to the kitchen and grabbed a bag of frozen peas. He placed them on Wylie's neck, hoping the cold would awaken him. No response. He dragged the bag down Wylie's back. He let it rest on his waist. Then pulled his checks apart, exposing his blood stained pucker and his balls. Then he gently placed the bag so it that lay directly on Wylie's asshole and balls.
Wylie snapped!
In a single movement he went from lying face down sprawled on the bed to a cowering crouched position against the headboard. He stopped there because he could get no farther away from the cold, the pain and John. The look in his eyes told John he was putting distance between them. Wylie curled himself into a ball so compact John thought it impossible. His face half hidden by his knees. His eyes scrunched shut.
"Wylie? Wylie, it's me John. Are you alright? At the sound of his voice Wylie's head jerked up. His eyes wide with fear.
Now it was John who became frightened. He had never seen Wylie. Never seen him afraid. He called softly, cooing. Moving closer he tried to hug and comfort Wylie. When John touched him, he felt him tremble and withdraw further into himself.
John pulled a blanket from the closet and draped it over Wylie. He pulled on his boxers and went into the great room. He lay on the sofa, hoping that in time Wylie would come back to him. He fell asleep.
John awakened to the morning sun and the smell of coffee. Wylie was sitting at the table facing away from John. This was an ominous sign. Wylie had showered, shaved and dressed. John choked back tears when he realized that Wylie was ready to leave. He called out just above a whisper, "Wylie? You ok?"
Wylie didn't turn around. His response was a flat, "yeah." Standing he poured then brought a cup of coffee to John. John sat up and Wylie took a seat on the other leg of the sectional. The same as yesterday, with positions reversed.
John noticed he sat gingerly just out of reach.
"John, I know I freaked out last night. I think you misunderstood my actions. I don't think I have ever experienced physical pain like that in my life. From the moment you rammed your cock into my ass, I forgot that had asked for, really insisted on having that experience."
"My whole world was nothing but the pain. I felt like I was being fucked with a knife. When you let go and started really fucking, the pain doubled. The pain and the realization that you didn't care about me. At all. I was a thing, a way to get your rocks off. I lay there and let myself be victimized by the man I love. Raped by someone I trusted. Someone who I thought loved me. There was no love in what you did. It was all anger. You were mad at me for having done the same thing to you."
"Before you came, I shut down. I wasn't in that bed with you. I was back in our dorm room raping you. Only last night I understood what I did to you. I hated myself. I told you, I couldn't believe you could even stand the sight of me after what I had done to you. Now, I can't even begin to understand how you managed to look at me without hating me. Without wanting to hurt me like I hurt you."
"Through all that, you remained my friend. I'm not sure I could have been that forgiving or that strong. I wonder how that's colored your life. What price did you pay to remain my friend after that? I don't know if I could have trusted any man after that. I mean, I was shattered and I was expecting it to be painful. It was so much more painful... hurtful... devastating, than I could have ever imagined."
John, now that I know, I mean, now that I understand what I did to you that night, you don't have to pretend anymore. You don't' have to hide it anymore. I know last night brought it all back to you. Just like it brought it all home to me. John, It's ok to hate me. My hanging around all these years just meant you had to keep it suppressed. It's ok to experience that pain and hate the man who brought it to you."
"What I am saying is that after last night, I don't know if I can forgive myself. I can't stay here knowing what I've done to you, to us. I'm going to leave this town. Please say you hate me. Even if you dont. Even if you dont know how you feel. Say it John, please. Even if you`re numb. Please, tell me you hate me."
There were no tears now. Only sorrow. Sorrow for love lost. Sorrow for wasted years. Sorrow for pain caused and borne. Sorrow for what lay ahead.
John had focused on his coffee soon after Wylie began talking. He got up and fetched the coffee pot. He sat the pot on the coffee table. It was minutes before he spoke.
"Wylie, I listened very carefully to what you said. Two points struck me. The first was that I could forgive you and you weren't sure you could do the same. I don't know. I suppose that could be answered by asking how you feel about me now. I don't dare ask right now. I remember too much about that night to ask you right now. The second was that When I was raping you, and I admit I was, you said I didn't love you. Love was not part of what I did to you, anymore than it was part of what you did to me. We both acted out of anger.
When you suggested that I sublimated my pain because you didn't remember raping me. That was like a catalyst for the points, I just mentioned. I want to make comparisons with our rapes. Not between the victims, rather between the perpetrators. You raped me when you were most angry. Angry with Mary Anne because she altered your life without discussion, and you were angry with me because I made you gay. I ade you love another man, and because I couldn't face life as a gay man. You, Wylie, were a very angry young man. I was there when that anger broke through."
Yesterday you and I renewed a journey we started long ago. When I mentioned the rape you offered no response, no reaction. That made me think that it was a conscious act. That angered me. I was angry because Gordy joined the Marines and got himself killed. I was angry about my father's love affair. Angry with you because you didn't challenge my accusation. I was angry because maybe you knew all along what you did to me. I was angry at myself most of all, because I was facing life without Gordy and life without you. Angry that I hadn't the courage to live life as a gay man. I was a very angry man."
"You asked me to rape you. You insisted. You gave me no choice. As soon as I mounted you, all pretense was gone. I snapped. I wasn't raping you. I was raping "HIM" the guy that raped me all those years ago. I was angrily fucking a hole. The most important thing in the world was to get my nut. This morning you suggest I release my anger and hate you. You are ready to accept the consequences of your actions. Is that about right?"
Wylie was searching John's face. He simply nodded. "Well then I have a question for you. What are to be my consequences? Do you hate me? Want to hurt me? Tell me Wylie, what's to be my punishment? Should I leave town. When I awoke to find you ready to leave. I felt I had no right to ask you to stay. I was sure you were leaving because of what I did to you last night. I was sure you hated me and could never forgive me. So Wylie, what is my punishment?"
Silence.
John stared at his coffee. Then without looking up, "I guess we are back to my first point. Wylie, how do you feel about me now? Before you answer know the reason I didn't want to ask earlier was because I remember how I felt the next morning."
John looked at Wylie with a poker face.
"John, you hurt me last night more than I have ever been hurt. I never want to experience that again. I'd rather die first. But, I don't hate you. I love you. You needed me last night. I showed my love for you by allowing you to use my body to vent you anger. My love for you hasn't changed, not in the least. If you can tell me you hate me, I'll go. But it wont be because I dont love you."
"Wylie, that's what I believed about that night in the dorm. We stopped having sex, for my part because of the rape. As time passed I realized I still loved you and wanted you. By that time we had a hand's off agreement. I knew you loved me, but I figured it was more like a brother. I figured if that was how you felt, I could live with that. I knew it would never work if we did it "drunk". It had be honest and with words of love. I just didn't know how to get there."
"We have been brutally honest, up to a point. I think we have to say how we feel about each other. Yesterday, when I was at my lowest I told you I still loved you. Your response made me doubt you felt as I do. So, Wylie Keyes are we to be committed lovers, best friends, business associates or do we go our separate ways and each try to build a new life?
"I want you to know that I have loved you since the second week as roommates when I started having wet dreams about you. I love you and want you to be my life partner. If this isn't what you want, then know, just like all these years, I will take of your love what ever I can get. I don't` want to think of life without you."
"FUCK! This is getting to damn dramatic. Can't we just let this rest for a while, at least? This whole fucking conversation is so goddamn stilted it would probably fit in some psycho analytical text book. Can't we just let it rest. At least for today. My ass is sore, I didn't sleep and I'm not ready for this shit. I really think you might regret later whatever you say right now."
John was too drained to put up a mask of false bravado. Wylie had just told him he didn't love him; not enough.
John said flatly, "Maybe you're right. We had better get dressed and head over to Gor,, I mean Doc's house." He turned toward his room. The mask now forming. By the time he got a shower and dressed he would be fine. At least Wylie didn't still say he was leaving town.
Wylie grabbed his arm and spun him around. "Don't fuck with me John. I know what you're doing just as well as you do. That "can't touch me shit ain't working for you anymore. You want to know how I feel? Alright goddamn it! If it keeps you here, alive and touchable." Tears began to roll down Wylie's cheeks.
His voice cracked, "I'll tell you. I'm scared shitless. I'm scared that you loved Gordy so much that I'm the only fucking thing, the only human you find to cling to. I'm scared that you see me as an alternative to Jim Beam. It scares the fuck out of me that as soon as your strong enough to make it on your own, you'll leave me. No, you won't leave me. You'll stay with me and I won't see it but you'll wither and die inside. That's how I feel. It's not love that makes you want me... it's desperation. That`s how I feel."
"You want to know if I love you. I have stood back in the shadows of your life for fucking ten years taking any crumbs of your love... Any "positive emotional regard" is probably how you'd like it phrased. As a brother, as a friend. Hell, I took it when I was nothing more than your nephew's father. Right now we're at a point were we have finally shared some truth. Ok, tell me I'm wrong. Tell me a week, a month, a year from now, five years from now, you won't wake up in middle of the night wondering how you could have made such a huge fucking mistake. By, by, trying to replace Gordy in your heart with someone who hurt you as much as I have."
"Tell me that you want wake up remembering that I raped you and hate me all over again. You wanted my answer now... When you didn't get it you made up your own fucking answer. So tell me now that I'm wrong. Tell me you will never regret what we decide here and now. If you don't answer me I will make up my own answer just like you did only I won`t hide it behind a poker face. I'm just not that sophisticated."
Silence rang through the great room. It echoed off the walls with such a sense of urgency that John was afraid not to say something, anything.
"You remember we didn't have sex on our first date. Sometimes I think of that Thanksgiving and each time I do I ask myself, what could have made it better? What could improve on that perfection? It was the best night of my life. The reason it was is actually pretty simple. I was with the love of my life. It could have been better. I could have made it better if I'd had the courage to tell you how I felt. To tell you I loved you."
"Wylie Keyes, I loved you then and I love you now. Maybe even more. It doesn't mean I loved Gordy less. It does mean that if you can tell me you love me half as much. I will never, never question what we decide here and now. So?"
Moving closer Wylie`s voice was calm. There were no tears. "Right now I want to say something that you will remember for the rest of your life... All I can think of is how I feel. John, I love you more than my heart can hold. Wylie slowly wrapped John in his arms and brought his lips to Johns...
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I could describe the kiss. Suffice it to say, It was a certified, bona fide, dyed in the wool earth shaker. More important is the make up sex. Imagine ten years to make up. It was hot and sweaty and noisy... with words. Noisey with words of endearment, words of passion and words of lust. And the first climax was the NOISIEST!
They never again made love in the dark. They were never ashamed or bothered or embarrassed by their intimate same sex relationship or their joyously, noisy lovemaking.
I know there are those among you who want all the teas dotted and the eyes crossed... you want to know what were Gordy's last words to John and Wylie... You probably want to read John's father's journal... Well, as they say "that, cowboy, is another story."
This may be the longest chapter ever posted on Nifty. Stuart, my editor, struggled to find a breaking point, he couldn't. (I knew he wouldn't. ;)) He did manage to eliminate some redundancies. If you enjoyed this story try to remember that a great deal of gratitude goes to the Aussie. Please let us hear from you as to what you think. This is my first effort. Bear in mind; I am not one of my characters, I am not interested in a "hook up" I won't get you off on yahoo or the phone... Other than that, I would like to hear what you think. Thanks, Jim