Kiss of Life

By Noni Y. Mouse

Published on Jun 11, 2003

Gay

Hi Guys- NM again. Thanks for waiting so patiently for the second chapter- stuff kept happening. Plus I'd never realized just how hard it was to get this stuff out! Hope U enjoy- the third chapter hasn't been started yet, but it will be soon. Please feel free to send me some feedback NoniMouse440@hotmail.com , and let me know what you think of how it's going. This work is MY creative property, so no one had better copy it. Go get your own! If you're not allowed to view this kind of material in your state, I think that you should try to change the legislation. Thanks much-

Kiss of Life:

Chapter 2

The first thing he realized was that he'd been staring at the ceiling. The second thing he realized was that the ceiling was immaculately clean. Thirdly, he realized that he was awake, and lastly, he realized that he must have fallen asleep at some point. Fallen asleep? He didn't remember falling asleep... in fact, he wasn't sure what he DID remember. The evening was sort of a blur- and as he tried to recall what had happened, he became aware of the massive headache he was suffering through.

"OUCH! Shit!!" he groaned, and rolled over. The sudden burst of pain behind his forehead and eyes made him nauseous, and he knew he had seconds to roll over before he threw up. To his surprise, and momentarily delaying the contents of his churning stomach, an empty waste basket appeared beneath his face. The moment over, the surprise fading into curiosity, Mike's body convulsed, and he threw up over and over into the basket. Finished, and winded, he lay back against the bed, on his side. He felt a little better, but was now covered in sweat.

Mike took a minute, and rolled over onto his back, and remembered that there was obviously someone else in the room. He squinted, and looked up at the figure.

"Mr. Dana? Are you all right?" a deep baritone voice inquired. Who WAS that?? Mike couldn't tell, and not just because of the glare of the lights in his eyes, or the dull throb of the headache. He really had never seen the guy before.

"I'm.. uhm... please water..." Mike could barely get the words out of his sore throat. His tongue felt stiff and dry, and his throat, on top of being parched, was scorched with sickly sweet burn of stomach acids. As the stranger turned to get him a glass of water, Mike got a good chance to check him out. This guy was about 5'10", a good 160 pounds, with black hair and reddish brown crystal eyes. He was wearing a black tee shirt, and baggy blue jeans. His black hair was thick and curly, and hung down on his shoulders. Mike wasn't sure who he was, but a part of him was very appreciative that he was there.

"Here you are Mr. Dana. Drink slowly" the stranger said as he lifted the cup to Mike's lips so that he could drink. Mike gratefully sipped the cooling water, and closed his eyes in bliss as his parched throat was soothed. Finally sated, he raised one weak hand and touched the stranger's arm. The guy smiled, and then turned to put the cup down on the tray. He turned back to Mike, still sitting on the bed, and looked down into Mike's face.

"Who... I'm sorry... who are you?" Mike stuttered. The guy smiled.

"I'm Chris. I deliver for Sal's Slices. When I got there, I saw you on the floor, and saw the mess. You were bleeding pretty badly, so I compressed the wound, and picked up the phone. The 911 operator was still there, so I told her what had happened. Then the cops showed up, and a minute behind them the ambulance was there. I went back to work after I gave the cops my statement, and then I came by here to check in on you. I wanted to let you know that I took your dog back home with me. I wasn't sure that I should leave him alone... but the funny thing is that I don't know his name!" Chris laughed. His voice was deep and his laugh was rich and filled the room, and Mike found himself smiling at the sound of it. Smiling and... perking up. He quickly glanced down at his crotch to see if his plump cock was starting to become noticeable, but thankfully it wasn't.

"Thanks so much Chris, for everything. You practically saved my life, I bet. And taking Jeff- that's above and beyond the call of duty! Thanks so much- how is he? I hope he's being a good dog!" It all tumbled out in a rush- he blushed, and became flustered inside and out. This guy was TOO attractive, and all TOO casual about sitting so close on the bed.

"It was no problem Mr. Dana. Just glad to see that you're all right." Chris' smile could brighten a solarium. His beautiful face shone with a beauty so serene it threatened to draw Mike away from himself, and into the calm and lovely depths of Chris' cheeks... his eyes... his full red lips... and into his soul.

"Please... Chris... call me Mike. You saved my life- I think that puts us a little past the formalities." Mike smiled, and when Chris beamed even more, Mike felt something unlock within his chest. He imagined that he could actually hear the wall that he'd built around his heart, begin to crumble. And his eyes began to tear up. Chris, seeing Mike's eyes glaze over with tears, reached out a warm hand, and with his thumb, caress the spot beneath Mike's left eye. This caused the tear to spill onto Mike's face, where it was caught with the tip of Chris' thumb. They both sat there staring at the sparkle of Mike's tear, entranced by the poetic beauty of the moment. Time seemed to stand still, and the rush of the hospital around them faded away, until the only thing audible to either of them was the breath that the other took. It was magic- it had to be. The doctor's knocking broke the spell, and brought them both grudgingly back into reality. Mike felt groggy, and as he slumped back into his pillows, he caught a glimpse of Chris' face before he got off the bed and turned around. Chris' face had turned hard, somehow; it reflected a longing so weary, that it seemed as if Chris had aged a couple of years before his very eyes. Not that he was sure he knew how old Chris was...

"Mr. Dana? I'm Doctor Robbins. How are you feeling?" Mike looked up at the man in the white knee length coat. He wore glasses over his dark blue eyes, and his silver hair seemed to glow under the harsh whiteness of the overhead lights.

"I'm feeling... confused... and a little worse for wear, Dr. Robbins. Thanks. I think I know what happened... when do you think I'll be able to go home?"

"Well... we'd like to keep you here at least overnight to make some more observations. We don't want you going home tonight and having any problems. If all goes well, we'll talk about letting you out of here tomorrow night. How's that?" Dr. Robbins smiled kindly down at Mike, and Mike had an urge to reach up and hug him.

"Thanks so much Dr. Robbins. I think I'd like that very much," and Mike couldn't resist the smile that rose onto his face. He briefly wondered if Dr. Robbins might have been single, but the flash of the wedding band as Dr. Robbins raised Mike's chart to check over a note gave him his answer. Not only was he not single, he was straight as well. He guessed that was ok.

"Mr. Dana I have other rounds to make. I trust that you'll be ok. If you have any needs, please ring the nurse and she'll assist you as best she can." And with that, one final smile, he was out the door, leaving Mike and Chris sitting on the bed shrouded in the remnants of the daze that had settled on them before his arrival.

Mike turned to Chris, sitting there staring at the bed apparently lost in his own thoughts. Before he could speak, Chris inhaled deeply, looked up, and smiled again. That damned smile- it could put out the sun with how brilliant it could shine. Mike figured that one could go blind looking at Chris directly if one stared for too long. And here he was, sitting a few feet away, putting his eyeballs in a very precarious situation.

"Chris... I want to thank you... sincerely... for everything you've done," and he heard his voice, sounding as if coming from someone else, "I'm not sure I know how to repay you, but maybe dinner would be a good start?" Chris' eyes crinkled in an even deeper smile, and he moved closer to Mike, perhaps subconsciously.

"I'd love that, Mike. Thanks so much for the offer! I'll leave my number here for you, because I have to leave right now, but please.... Call me..." Mike paused for a minute, not sure he wanted to get himself into where he was going. But another part of him, excited by the prospect of more contact with this superbly gorgeous hunk of man, was MORE than sure. It sat throbbing against his thigh, hot and getting decidedly wetter with pre-cum as each throb squeezed his shaft and brought the nectar up his rod.

"OK Chris. We'll talk again soon. Thanks for visiting." Chris slid closer to Mike, and wrapped his arms around Mike's body, pulling Mike into the scent of Chris' body. Mike's eyes closed, and he could feel himself getting harder, the sheet slipping gently and slowly... torturously, really, across his sensitive cock head. Chris pulled him in harder and squeezed him, once then again, and Mike groaned and shook as his balls contracted, and launched sperm out of his body at the speed of light. He pushed Chris away violently, and bent over double, trying to hide the spreading wet spot and trying to control the shudders that ran thru his body as the warm cum plastered the sheet to his super sensitive cock head. A variety of emotions were running through him- shame, fear, self-loathing. He was afraid that Chris would know what had happened; smell the sharp odor of cum, and figure everything out. He felt he had ruined the moment, but worst of all, he felt the dread that descended over him post-orgasm. It reminded him of too many things gone past... too many things too late to fix... and he choked back a sob, as he began to convulse for an entirely different reason. The drop from a feeling of such intense elation to such intense grief was horrible. It was like being dropped into the middle of the arctic sea on a cloudy night.

Chris had backed up across the room, eyes wide, hand over mouth. Mike couldn't even look up at him. He felt when Chris took a tentative step back across the room.

"Mike! Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry! Sometimes I don't know my own strength! Let me go get the doctor- geez I feel like SUCH an ass!"

"NO!" Mike barked out hoarsely around a sob, "not your fault. Please, I'm ok. I'd just... like to be... alone for a moment." Mike looked up, tears streaming down face, and whispered again to Chris. "Please. I'll call you... maybe explain later... but for now... please."

Chris looked stunned and then confused. But in the end, he nodded, wrote down his number on a slip of paper, and left it on the table next to Mike's bed. He put a hand on Mike's shoulder, squeezed gently, and then was gone. Mike continued to sob quietly into his hands for the next ten minutes. He couldn't bear it- the feeling of being so lonely; being such a leper. He hated that he could never get close enough to anyone... lest they find out... and he couldn't handle anyone finding out. He didn't want to deal with the looks... the feelings... he hated it. He hated himself.

Mike dragged himself out of bed, cum now cold, sheet slipping away from him. He had to change his gown, and he had to get rid of the sheet. The smell of cum wafted up from his matted pubes. It was such a huge load that it actually ran down his balls and down his legs. He had to wipe himself up before the cum dripped onto the floor and made a mess. As he bent over to wipe up his legs, he suddenly felt lighter than he could ever remember. So light, it was as if he were floating away. And then, a buzzing seemed to vibrate through his head, and there was soft, cool blackness.

Next: Chapter 3


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