This story contains graphic sexual scenes between males. If material of this nature offends you then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age in most states you are not allowed to read this story by law.
This story is purely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to person's living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental.
The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication or publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to which it has been posted, without the consent of the author.
Mark Stevens Jetdesk2@yahoo.com
"The Nurse and the Patient, Part 7
Jonathan woke up early the next morning. He lay there a while watching Lance as he slept. He ran over in his mind what had happened the night before. Not only had Lance declared his love for him, but Jonathan had admitted his feelings for his patient. As he thought about Lance and how much he cared for him, Jonathan felt a mixture of happiness and fear. He was happy that Lance felt the same way he did, yet at the same time, that happiness was laced with fear.
Jonathan was definitely in love with Lance, yet, he wondered how it could possibly work out. The fact that he and Lance had grown up in very different worlds played big in his thoughts. Jonathan had always had to work for everything he ever had, as had his mother. That was the way she had raised him. Lance, on the other hand, had been given everything. Everything except happiness, Jonathan thought.
Lance moaned in his sleep, and for a moment Jonathan thought he was waking. However, he continued sleeping, breathing at a slow even pace. Jonathan remained in bed beside him for another moment or two, and then slowly eased his way off the bed. He wanted Lance to sleep as long as possible, and he thought if he left him alone, his patient would get the rest he needed.
He hurried out to the kitchen and started the morning coffee. Then he headed to his room to shower and set his day into motion.
Later, his shower over, Jonathan dressed and returned to the kitchen, ready for his first cup of coffee. He poured a cup and returned down the hall to peek in on his patient. He discovered Lance still sleeping peacefully, so he returned to the den. The house was so quiet, so peaceful, and it felt good just to relax for a bit before the day got under way.
Lance had finished his coffee and was dosing when he was brought to by a voice calling out, "Hey, anybody out there?"
Jonathan stood to his feet and hurried down the hall. When he came into Lance's room, he discovered his patient sitting up in bed, his back against the head board, and wearing a big grin on his face.
"When did you sneak out of bed?" Lance asked.
"Not long ago," Jonathan answered. "You were sleeping so peacefully I didn't want to disturb you."
"Come here, you," Lance said, holding out his arms.
Jonathan walked over to the bed. "Good morning," he greeted. He leaned over and kissed Lance on the mouth.
Lance pulled him close and held him. "I missed you."
Jonathan pulled back and said, "How could you? I haven't been gone that long."
"Just an eternity," Lance told him.
"You seemed to sleep well last night," Jonathan said.
"I did," Lance nodded. "Because you were here," he added.
"You ready for some coffee? I've already had a cup."
Jonathan brought two steaming cups back and handed one to Lance. "Here you go," he said. He pulled the wing back chair over near the bed and sat down. "I did sleep well," he said.
"You should have after shooting a load the size you did," Lance reminded him.
"I seem to remember someone else that had an even bigger load," Jonathan teased.
"Fuck, when you have a nurse that doesn't tend to all of your needs, that's what happens." He emphasized the word `all' as he spoke.
"Excuse me, but I think I've done a damned good job `tending to your needs', as you put it."
Lance reached over and brushed a hand against Jonathan's shoulder. "Yes, you have," he agreed quietly.
They drank their coffee for a time surrounded by silence in the room. Finally Lance asked, "Why so quiet, Jon?"
"No reason, I guess."
"Come on, talk to me."
"I've just had a lot of things running through my mind."
When he didn't continue, Lance said, "Such as?"
"Just a lot of shit."
"Let's hear the `shit'?"
"Can you give me some time to process all that's going on here?"
"Sure, if that's what you need." Lance looked at Jonathan for a moment and then said, "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure," Jonathan answered.
"Have I moved too fast for you?"
Jonathan didn't answer right away. Instead, he just looked at Lance over the rim of his coffee cup.
"Fuck, I messed up, didn't I?"
Jonathan smiled. "No, Lance, you haven't fucked up. You realize, don't you, that the two of us, we're very different, especially in the way we grew up."
Lance asked, "How different?"
"I think you know the answer to that."
"What I see is a guy, one with two very bad legs at the moment, who has fallen hopelessly in love with his hot sexy nurse. That is all I see," he ended.
Jonathan said, "You want to know what I see?" Before Lance could answer, he said, "What I see is a dumb good for nothing nurse who has fallen in love with his hot patient. However, I see a little more than that."
"Meaning?"
"Do I have to spell it out for you?"
"You mean the fucking money?"
"That is a large part of it," Jonathan agreed.
"Screw it." Lance raised his hand in the air, his middle finger standing by itself.
"Nevertheless, it is there," Jonathan reminded. "And, along with that comes your father."
"You want him in the picture?"
Jonathan shook his head, saying, "Aren't you following me here?"
"I guess not. I'm too fucking dumb to stay on track with you."
Jonathan stood to his feet. "Those are your words, definitely not mine." He walked to the door. "I'll make some breakfast."
"Jonathan, wait."
Jonathan turned around. "What?" he asked. He kept his eyes on the floor, refusing to look at Lance.
"I'm sorry. That remark was uncalled for," he added.
"Yeah, you're right about that"
Jonathan turned back around and left the room. He went to the kitchen and put a meal together. He had so much on his mind, and he was damned glad he could stay busy. He worked quietly moving around the room as he put together a very appetizing meal. He took a tray loaded with food into Lance and sat it on his lap.
"Can I get you something else?" he asked.
"Are you going to eat something?"
"I'm not much of a breakfast eater. Coffee and a bagel is my usual."
"You mind bringing your `usual' and joining me?"
Jonathan left the room, soon returning with a tray of his own, containing his bagel and another cup of coffee.
They ate their entire meal in silence, neither one making an attempt to carry on conversation. Jonathan finished eating first and stood to his feet.
"Jonathan, may I say something?"
"Of course, what's on your mind?" Jonathan took his seat once more.
"I want to have a talk with you."
"I'm listening," Jonathan said when Lance didn't continue.
"Jonathan, I know the two of us are different. We're as different as night and day, and that is good. It would be pretty damned boring if we were just alike, don't you agree?"
"I'm sure."
"Jonathan, does it bother you that I have money?"
Jonathan looked at Lance and remained silent, no words coming from his mouth.
"Well, it shouldn't," Lance told him. "It's there, I know it, and you know it. However, it doesn't mean the two of us aren't good for each other, that we can't love one another."
Jonathan still didn't speak. He sat there listening as Lance talked from the bed.
"And I know my old man's a pain in the ass," Lance went on. "That's not likely to change. He's been one all of my life, and he will always be one."
"And it's going to make him an even bigger pain to you when he finds out about us," Jonathan pointed out.
"Fuck him, Jonathan." Once more Lance shot his middle finger in the air. "He's already the most miserable son of a bitch on earth, so why should that matter."
"It matters because I don't want to be the one making matters even worse for you. And I will, you know that."
"Again, fuck him!" Then Lance lowered his voice and said, "Jonathan, it's you I love. You're the one who has made me happy, made me even want to try and get my life back into sync. Can't you see, it's because of you that I even have a desire to fight him and to go forward with my life? Jonathan, I want you to know something."
"What's that?"
Lance motioned for him to come over to the bed. "Come sit beside me. Please," he said.
Jonathan left his chair and walked over to the bed. He sat on the side and felt Lance's arms go around his shoulders.
"I want to tell you something, and I want you to listen until I'm finished. That Sunday afternoon was not an accident. I intentionally did what I did."
"You were drunk," Jonathan reminded him.
"You promised to let me talk, remember?"
Jonathan nodded.
"I was drunk, all right. I had started drinking the night before, and I kept on drinking all through the night, even into Sunday morning. You see, my dad had been to see me the day before. It was not a pleasant visit; I can assure you of that. Why I let it bother me, I have no idea, but I did. By the time he left he had raked me over the coals again and again, and as he was going out the door, he told me he regretted the day I had ever been born, and he was so grateful my mother was dead. He said at least she didn't have to see what her son had turned out to be. Her son," Lance repeated. "He didn't even have the balls to say our son. I had already been drinking some, but after he left, I decided to really throw one on and try to forget the son of a bitch had ever been there. Well, I did, and sometime later a plan began to form in my mind. He wanted me out of his life, he had told me that several times. My mother was gone, I had no one, so, why stick around? Fuck them all, I thought. I'm not sure when I got into my car, but I did. God knows how I even made it out of the drive, let alone drove the distance I did before I crashed. All I could think of was just end it for everyone. For the old man who hated my guts, for my mother who hadn't the heart to live, and finally for me who simply did not give a fuck whether I lived another day or not."
Lance had finished, the words coming to a stop. For a moment he remained as he was, his arms still wrapped around Jonathan's shoulders. Finally he said, "There, you have it, Jon. Maybe I am a nut case, and you are right in putting on the breaks and not getting involved in my life. Can't say I much blame you," he ended.
Jonathan suddenly turned around and faced him. Tears were streaming down his cheeks and he attempted to brush them away. "You asshole, can't you see? I am involved in your life," he said. As he spoke, the words came out between sobs. "In the short time I've known you I've come to realize you are my life."
He kissed Lance on the mouth, and in that moment they both realized there would be no turning back. As they walked through an invisible door and closed it behind them, they knew there would be only one way for them to go, and that way was forward.
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For Jonathan and Lance, each day was like sharing an adventure together. Although nothing had changed and the days were the same as before, still the love they shared was so new to them that it made everything seem different. Jonathan still started his days early each morning making sure Lance was taken care of, his needs met, and even Lance made an effort to help in his recovery.
One morning Jonathan had talked his patient into getting out of bed and eating his breakfast at the table in the kitchen. They had finished their meal and were talking over a second cup of coffee when the telephone rang.
Lance told Jonathan to answer it.
Jonathan picked up the telephone, and after his initial greeting, was silent, listening. He handed the phone to Lance. "It's for you," he said.
Jonathan took his seat at the table. He took a sip from his coffee cup. As he sat there listening to Lance talk, he could tell he was getting upset.
"What the hell am I suppose to do?" he asked.
Jonathan couldn't tell what was being said from the other end. He listened as Lance said. "Tony, there's not a thing I can do." He paused, and then said, "Are you certain?"
A few minutes later Lance said, "Let me think it over, okay? I'll get back with you, Tony."
Lance ended his telephone conversation and sat the phone down on the table in front of him.
Jonathan asked, "Something wrong?"
"I'm not sure. That was Tony Miller on the phone. He's the one Dad hired to take my place when he fired my ass."
Jonathan was curious, but he didn't question Lance. Instead, he sat there quietly drinking from his coffee cup. If Lance wanted to discuss whatever this was he would.
"Tony thinks Dad is screwing the company."
"I thought you said there was a top notched auditing company that was taking care of things," Jonathan reminded him.
"I thought there was," Lance said.
"Are you going to do something?"
"I'm not sure I can," Lance said. "After all, I'm not even allowed on the property any longer."
"If you are an equal share holder, I can't see how that can happen," Jonathan pointed out.
"I agree, you are right," Lance said. "However, I have just found it easier not to fight the old man and just stay away." Lance looked thoughtful as he sat across the table from Jonathan. Finally he said, "I think I will give Tony a call back. It can't hurt to hear what he says."
Jonathan agreed. "If you don't want to meet him at the office, why don't you ask him to drop by here? In fact, I don't mind fixing a meal," he told Lance. "I can leave the two of you alone afterward and give you some privacy. I'll just go to my room."
Lance looked at him, a glare showing in his eyes. "Why the hell would you do that?"
"This is a private matter."
"It's also a family matter, and you are my family. I thought you knew that."
"I know that. I also know you have business, and it really isn't any of my business."
"It is your business, Jon. You have to know that," Lance added.
Jonathan grinned and said, "If you tell your father that I am now part of your family, he may just kick up his heels and run, leaving you and your company on your own."
"I doubt that. He's had it made all of these years, and he's not about to give what he has up now."
"Your mother obviously came from money. Was your father as fortunate?"
"I don't know much about Dad's people," Lance admitted. "I just know that every time my mother was willing to dish a little more his way, he always had his hands out to get hold of it. He always referred to what she did as `trusting him to handle things'."
After talking a bit longer, Lance decided to call Tony Miller back and ask him to come to dinner the following night. He made his telephone call, and when he hung up, he turned to Jonathan and smiled. "He'll be here at seven."
"Good. I'll get some ideas from you later and go to the market." Jonathan stood to his feet. "Now, you about ready for your bath?" he asked.
He helped Lance back into bed and went for the things he needed to give him his bath. When he returned to the room, he discovered Lance had already pulled his shirt off. He had tossed it to the floor.
Jonathan sat his pan of water on the table beside the bed. "Anxious for your bath, I see."
"What I'm anxious for is that you strip off your clothes before you bathe me," Lance said with a grin. "I don't want you to get wet," he added.
"I've always stayed dry before," Jonathan reminded.
"That was before, as you say. I'm not so sure that would happen now," he decided.
Jonathan laughed. "Whatever. I won't give you a hassle."
"There you go again, using that word," Lance reminded him. "It use to piss you off when I said it."
"Yeah, whatever."
Jonathan reached up and pulled his shirt up over his head and tossed it to the floor. "There, is this better?" he asked.
Lance leaned over and looked down. "You had better remove those scrub pants. I would hate like hell for those to get wet too. You might catch cold," he added.
Jonathan just shook his head and slowly pulled his scrub pants down, letting them fall to the floor. He gave them a swift kick across the room and stood there naked beside the bed.
"Fuck, you are naked!
"No shit, Sherlock."
Jonathan reached for the rag and threw it in the soapy water. "It's time to clean you up," he said.
He felt Lance reach over and touch his cock. "I want to clean this first," he said. He pulled Jonathan closer to him, using his dick as a rope; a rope that was quickly thickening up and growing.
"Behave," Jonathan said. He tried to make his voice sound gruff and failed.
He let Lance pull him over. He stood there next to the bed and enjoyed the touch of Lance's fingers as they gently squeezed his balls and then slowly snaked their way up through his thick blond forest. By the time he felt Lance's fingers wrap around the shaft of his cock, he was completely hard and standing, surrounded by thick cock tangles. Lance started to stroke him, slowly at first, and each movement brought him closer to falling over the edge.
"God, Lance, you're going to make me cum," he groaned.
He felt Lance stroke him faster and soon the intense feeling of cuming started out in his groin and quickly spread throughout his entire body. He shuddered as the first rope of cum shot out the end of his cock and covered Lance's fingers.
A few minutes later after Jonathan had managed to recover somewhat, he looked down and saw Lance's own hard cock standing tall and leaking a thick stream of pre cum. He leaned over and brought his lips to the tip where the sticky liquid was oozing over the edge. He slowly wrapped his lips around the head and made his way all the way down until his nose was buried at the base of Lance's cock, his brown curls tickling Jonathan's nose.
"Fuck, that feels good," Lance moaned. "Yeah, suck my cock," he groaned.
The faster Jonathan worked his mouth, the harder Lance groaned. "Suddenly he screamed out, "I'm cuming!"
Jonathan felt the first wave of cum hit the back of his throat, and he swallowed quickly, enjoying the taste of the thick hot cream as the rest of the hot load rolled across his tongue and down his throat.
When Jonathan had sucked Lance's cock dry, he removed his mouth and grinned. "You were supposed to take a bath, not get your cock sucked."
"I'm definitely not complaining. Are you?"
Jonathan eyed the still hard cock standing in the middle Lance's thick brown bush. "Definitely not," he agreed.
"I didn't think so. Now, are you going to help me with my bath or just stand there?"
"I could stand here and look at you all day," Jonathan said, "but that wouldn't get you cleaned up."
"Might be a lot more fun," Lance teased.
Jonathan squeezed out the wet rag and threw it at Lance. "Sorry, ain't going to happen," he laughed. "Get busy," he added.
Jonathan searched in the drawer and found a clean shirt for Lance to put on. He returned to the side of the bed just as Lance finished washing himself and handed him the towel. "Here, dry off, and I'll help you dress."
As he watched Lance dry his face and stomach, Jonathan wondered how he could suddenly be as happy as he was. When he looked at Lance, it was if he they had always known each other. It was hard to believe that not even a month had passed since the two of them had first met.
"Why so deep in thought?" Lance asked him.
"I was just thinking," Jonathan answered.
"I hope it was good thoughts," Lance said.
Jonathan looked at him, a tender smile forming on his lips, and said, "Oh, it was good, all right. I was thinking about you." Jonathan reached down and kissed Lance on the mouth. "About how much I really do love you," he added.
End Part 7.