This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. This story also deals with love and consensual sexual activities between men. If you are not of legal age, reside in an area where viewing such material is illegal, or are offended by such themes, do not read further and leave this site now.
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Two Lives - Two Loves
Chapter 14
There's nothing better on the face of this planet than a really good massage. No...strike that, strike that. There is, actually...who am I kidding?...but right then, right there, Ron's hands slowly working their way around my back felt absolutely, positively stellar. His thumbs slowly working the tightness out of my muscles, lessening the jabbing pain, felt just unbelievably good. It didn't take long before I was going from crying out with every jab of pain from where I'd unknowingly wrenched my back to cooing like a dove. I know that that sounds just way too flaky for words but I don't care; that's how I felt.
Ron had excellent technique, which surprised me. In no way would I have guessed that a waiter who looked like some old drifter, albeit a cute one, could have such wonderful ability. He would slowly work his thumbs around the little blast furnace that was my lower back at the moment, firmly, but not painfully. His fingertips would take over for a while and then his full palms would rest on the afflicted area. The heat from his hands warmed and soothed my aching muscles, which still twitched involuntarily in agony occasionally, but not nearly so much now that they were being attended to.
Anyone who's ever had a massage will tell you that, if the masseur or masseuse has any talent at all, it's really easy to slip into a light, trance-like sleep; sometimes not so light, sometimes very deep. I was on the verge of that right now. All I needed was for Ron to start working on my feet and I'd be out like a light. I was consciously trying to avoid falling asleep because I wanted to consciously enjoy every second of this. Ron also needed me awake to give him feedback in case he worked something too hard...I refer, of course, to my back.
Having gone through his little cycle once, he returned to working me with his thumbs. That was my absolute favorite part. A massage therapist I went to for a while after my lacrosse accident didn't like to do too much work with her thumbs and fingertips. I can understand that; it's hard on them and can quickly become fatiguing to their joints even though it put me right on the doorstep of Heaven itself. Oh, I was shameless about it, too, begging, pleading, doing everything but crying like a two-year old who'd had his cookie taken away to get her to use her thumbs and fingertips more...I could get away with that then, before I'd passed from being cute to being handsome... to say nothing of being modest. Now that I was just a little older, it wouldn't have the same impact except as pure, pathetic comedy. She'd just smile at my antics and concede for a minute or so before going back to those forearm glides that she preferred so much. Ron, at least for now, had no such problem and was more than happy to keep me happy, seemingly drawing strength from every groan and moan of satisfaction that I uttered.
"Are we in our happy place yet?" he asked. I didn't have to look; I could see his grin in that third eye place of mine that was getting more play lately.
"Ooooh, yeah," I muttered, sighing. "But don't stop!" I quickly urged.
Ron laughed. He knew I was enjoying this and didn't seem to mind doing it. Guilt, I guess. I strongly sensed that he was just trying to make up for having been the cause of my predicament despite my assurances that it was definitely not his fault.
"Excellent! "Let's see how you like this," he said.
For just a split second, I wondered what he had in mind as I felt his fingertips alight near the pockets on my shorts. "What? Is he just going to go for it right here?" I thought, not knowing what to do, not having any time to react. All doubt was removed, thankfully, as I felt Ron sink his thumbs firmly into my gluts and begin working my sciatics. If you've never had anyone work your sciatics, I highly recommend it. I would never have guessed that I, let alone any human being, could make such a deep rumbling groan of intense, satisfaction. Unconsciously, I began to burrow into the cushions just a bit more and sighed deeply as he worked his thumbs in those slow circles.
It was in the middle of one of those deep, rumbling groans that Jon burst back into the house at full gallop, almost smashing the glass in the door as he did, only to stop dead in his tracks. Gravity had no trouble whatsoever dragging his chin towards the floor. The plastic bag from the drugstore slipped from his fingertips and clattered to the wooden floor. It must have been quite a little scene that instantly played in Jon's mind since neither Ron nor I realized that from where Jon was standing, his view of what was going on was mostly blocked by the couch. Being able to see only the upper part of Ron's body, clad though it still was, and hearing my unearthly groan, I was certain that Jon figured we were having a bit of gratuitous intimacy. I make light of it only because, looking back, it was terribly funny. The expression on Jon's face must've been absolutely priceless. At the time, though, it wasn't all that funny.
"Hey!!" he barked reflexively, approaching the couch, his voice tinged with a hair of acrimony that I'd never heard come from him before.
"What?!" Ron and I said almost simultaneously, our heads snapping around to the sound of the crashing door and of Jon's voice. Well, Ron's head snapped around, I just kind of eased my head around since quick movements tended to aggravate the pain.
As Jon approached the couch, his perspective gained a better perspective and he could see that I was merely shirtless and that Ron was still fully clothed, massaging my lower back and gluts. His expression of shock gave way to one of awkward embarrassment as he realized his apprehensions were unfounded, that Ron was still tending to my back and my back alone. I couldn't turn my head all the way towards him, but I could see that Jon was starting to blush, even his ears were turning red.
"What?" Ron repeated. I smiled. I knew exactly what Jon thought.
Jon didn't know what to say but tried to recover as best he could, "Hey," he stammered. "...uuuh...they had a bunch of stuff that looked pretty good...," he said, going back to retrieve the bag he'd dropped, still stammering, knowing that he'd been caught in a moment of unfounded suspicion, hoping he wouldn't get called on it, hoping the yellow flag wouldn't get thrown. Ron was cool enough about it. I sensed, though, that he knew what the deal was and didn't say anything, betraying just a hint of a smile.
"Excellent!" he said. "What'd you get?"
"I got the obligatory heating pad...a gel pack..." Jon said, beginning his inventory.
"Excellent..." Ron said, clicking off each item along with Jon.
"...a regular ice pack for while the gel pack's in the freezer..."
"Good thinking..."
"...some Ben-Gay...," Jon continued. At that one, I slowly cut my eyes around to him. This felt like Playful Jon having some fun with irony, which is a dangerous thing in the wrong hands, and I knew he expected a reaction on my part, though I didn't want to address the gay thing too openly...yet.
"Ben-Gay...," I drawled, repeating his words.
"Yeah, Ben-Gay," he chirped, the embarrassment now gone from his voice, the smile was back. "They said it was good for you broken-down types."
Ron laughed.
"Broken down?!" I began. "Why, I'll dance on yer grave, ya young snot!" I continued in the best grizzled-old-codgerly voice I could manage under the circumstances. I then convulsed slightly in pain as doing `The Voice' strained me in just the wrong way. They both laughed, of course...with me, I hoped, not at me.
"What else," Ron asked, still laughing a bit.
"I got the rubbing alcohol..." Jon continued.
"'K..." Ron acknowledged.
"...some kind of liniment..."
"'K..."
"...some of this goop called Muscle Gel..."
"Ooo, lemme see that," Ron asked, catching the small jar in mid air as Jon lobbed it. "Oh, excellent...St. John's Wort," he said.
"Jon doesn't have any warts," I said matter-of-factly, knowing the reaction I'd get. I was not displeased when I saw two smirks out of the corner of my eye accompanied by matching groans.
"I should've gotten something to shove in his mouth while I was there," Jon offered, wryly. I was tempted to follow on to that remark but decided to resist temptation.
"Sorry, guys," I said. "I couldn't resist. What's St...what'd you call it?"
"St. John's Wort," Ron said. "It's good for muscle pains. What else, Jon?"
"Well, the lady at the counter said this stuff was good too," Jon said, holding up a small, medicinal blue bottle. Ron looked at it quizzically and held out his hand for Jon to toss it.
"Oh, cool," he said. "Ginger Root!"
"Ginger root?" I said as Jon looked at us with his eyebrows furrowed. "Jon, you pick up any Eye of Newt while you were there?" I laughed.
"Don't laugh," Ron said. "It's an essential oil that's really great for muscular pain. Nice work, Jon!" Ron continued, giving Jon a thumbs up. Jon returned with his quick smile.
"Lemme get the gel pack in the freezer," he said.
"How do you know all this stuff, Ron," I asked, settling back down onto the cushions.
"My mom," he said. "She was a massage therapist. I picked it up here and there. Couldn't help it; she always had the stuff around. My father always thought it was bullshit, but I was on mom's side. She always treated me with all the organic stuff when I was sick or somethin' and I had no complaints."
"She teach you how to give massages, too?" I asked.
"Yeah, some. She figured I needed something to fall back on if bein' a bum didn't work out!" Ron said, laughing, followed by our own laughs. "Let's try the ginger root first...see how that works out," he continued.
Opening the tiny bottle, Ron let a few droplets drip out onto his palm and rubbed his hands together. The air in the kitchen almost immediately became fragrant with the aroma of fresh ginger. I closed my eyes and started to relax just from the pleasant aroma and his oiled hands on my back were more soothing than before. Ron slowly worked the oil around my back but concentrated more on the lower part where my muscles still ached and poked at me with red-hot irons occasionally. He worked slowly and repeatedly from the spine outwards with just the right amount of pressure, then slowly worked his way up my spine, a bit more lightly, with the butt of his palm. I sighed a little as I felt a couple of my vertebrae popping back into alignment as he did so. After a few minutes of this, the pain was really starting to subside.
"That ginger root's really wonderful stuff, Ron," I mumbled as I rested while he attended me. "I feel a hundred percent better already."
"Excellent," he said. I could feel his smile. I thought it was funny that I could also see a vague image of him smiling in my mind. I didn't think too much of it; I was enjoying this too much to analyze it. "See," he continued, "and you were making fun of it. I'm telling you, this stuff is awesome."
"That smell's making me hungry for Chinese," Jon said. "Anyone hungry? In all the excitement, we didn't get a chance to eat."
"I'm not too hungry, now," Ron said.
"Yeah, I could hold off a little until I can stand up straight again," I agreed. "Ya wanna order Chinese later?"
"Yeah, I'm with that," Jon said. "Dude...you're staying for dinner, right?"
"I don't think he meant that as a question," I whispered to Ron. "Just nod your head politely and say yes'." As suggested, Ron didn't hesitate to nod politely and say yes'. Jon was pleased; he loved to take care of people. I could feel Ron smile again and his hands ran over my back a little more excitedly this time, a little more powerfully. He was happy, too. But I was sensing something else. I couldn't put my finger on it, though. Oh, what the hell, he was happy and that's what mattered. Jon was right. It was nice having another friend around the place.
Even after a few days, it was really apparent that being stuck...no, that's not the right word...just...being here with no neighbors or anyone close by could wear on you after a while. That's not to say that I didn't love being alone with Jon, because I really did, that should go without saying. But I was beginning to crave other human contact. I think Jon did, too. When I was a kid growing up, there were always neighbors around and everyone knew everyone else. We were always in and out of each others houses all day long, driving our parents nuts...'In or out, in or out!!'. At the frathouse, too, it was the same thing. There were always guys around, always some kind of activity going on...Life's background noise, you know? Here there was none of that. As perfect as this place was, it was way quiet here, which is a mixed blessing. I think Jon liked it more than I did but I think he liked a little variety now and again, too. Of course, I had my `friend' in the Study, but in no way did I consider HIM company! Thankfully, he'd been quiet today.
"Say, what's the weather doing out there? Is it gonna hold?," I heard Ron say, breaking my short meditation. I became aware of his soothing hands again.
"Nope, `fraid not," Jon said as he closed the freezer door. "It's clouding up again big time. Let's check it out."
Jon picked up the remote from the counter, and pressed the macro button that turned on everything but the garbage disposal and the entire system came quickly and loudly to life. He pressed the `Favorites' button repeatedly until the local Weather Channel came up. After a few minutes of the usual stuff, the local Doppler radar confirmed what Jon had said...more rain coming in.
"Wonderful," Ron muttered facetiously.
"Great," Jon said, echoing Ron's sentiments.
"Hmmmm," I said. "Well, so much for our little break. Hey look, I don't know much about radar, but I'd bet we've got enough time for you guys to get a little divin' in before that rain gets here...if you want to. Ron, you can use my stuff."
Ron shrugged and looked hopefully at Jon. He obviously wanted to give it a shot but didn't want to be too pushy. I could tell, though, he'd really liked our morning session.
"Sure, why not?" Jon chimed in. His slight hesitancy was just a facade; I knew he wanted to strap the gear on again, too. "But what about you?"
I'll come out `n paddle around a little," I said. "The cold water'll probably help my back."
"Excellent!" Ron said.
We wasted no time in getting changed since we didn't have just a whole lot of time before the rain would be on us...again. It'd rained so much in the past few days; I was a little surprised that we weren't getting flooded out or something. Jon helped me out getting up and down the stairs since my lower back was still bothering me big time and I didn't have my usual flexibility. He was what I'd call a caring worrier. I fucking love him. I don't know why he wants to be a shrink. I think he'd be better at being a regular doctor, a true healer.
Ron was waiting for us poolside. The cutoff jeans he wore were still damp and the slight breeze was more than enough to bring up a nice crop of goosebumps all over his body. Those things probably took about two days to dry out, I thought as I noticed him shivering just a little. Of course, I was a fine one to talk. My baggies weren't exactly fresh from the dryer, either, and I was shivering, too. Jon, on the other hand...well, what can I say? He was just fine since those trunks of his dry in a heartbeat. They ought to since they barely have enough material to cover a gnat's ass! They certainly helped warm me up a little, though, I'll tell you. I watched as they put on their gear.
"Okay," I began, with my serious voice. "You guys remember everything now?"
"Yeeeeeeeeees, teacher," Jon intoned with a slight smile. Ron nodded, laughing slightly at our banter.
"Yeah? Let's see." I checked them both out. "Yo, dip," I said to Ron. It helps if you turn your air on, ya know," I said, clapping him on the shoulder and twisting the valve open, listening to the rush of air to his regulator.
"Duuuuude!" Jon said, grinning broadly. "Yer busted!" Ron couldn't keep from laughing, and blushing a little, at Jon's comic relief from my too-serious teacher mode.
"Thanks, teach," Ron said. "I'll try to do better, next time."
"Jon?" I said.
"Yeah?"
"Why are your Speedos inside out?"
"Wha...?!" he said, looking down quickly, walking blindly into my little gag. Ron and I couldn't keep from breaking up at the flummoxed smirk on Jon's face when he instantly realized that he'd fallen for that grade-school gag like some half-witted dope. "Oh, ha, ha..jerk." Not an atypical response when he'd been caught at something. Jon could take being the butt of a joke but he preferred to dish it out, when he was in the mood, of course. He smiled back, never being one to hold a grudge.
Like good little pupils, they sat on the edge of the pool and got ready, held their masks and rolled forward, the water swallowing them whole, leaving only a cloud of bubbles and a distorted, wavering view of them both below. I went around to the steps and eased into the water as fast as my back would allow until I was mostly immersed and just slowly pushed off, starting to do a slow breaststroke across the pool with minimal kicking. Actually, my back was starting to feel a little better.
The cool water and the stretching from the swimming were helping a lot. My muscles quickly began to loosen and warm up. After a while I hardly noticed the pain anymore and started increasing my speed a little at a time until I was making fairly good time. Yeah...this was working out nicely. By dinner, I felt like I'd be all better again. Ron's massaging and the water were just what the doctor ordered. It was just then that Ron and the doctor decided to have a little fun and grabbed me from below, pulling me under like Jaws grabbed that side of beef. I yelped in surprise and took a little water up my nose as I felt Jon shove the regulator in my mouth. Playful-Jon was back and wanted to wrestle some more. Without a mask, I could only vaguely see that Ron was content to back off and watch the two of us go at it.
Remembering the last time we did this, I was determined to get the upper hand as quickly as possible. What can I say? I can be a sore loser and, boyfriend or no boyfriend, Jon was going down...still, this was a friendly little Mano-a- Mano, dumb-ass guy thing, you know? I could feel him starting to pull that trick of his, wrapping his legs around me to get more leverage, and I squirmed away as quickly as my back would allow, which put him a little off balance. I saw my chance as he tried to recover and snatched his mask off, letting it drop to the bottom. Jon quickly became a flurry of arms and legs when he took a nose full of water and in those few seconds that he lost it, I grabbed his regulator and pressed down hard on the purge valve with my thumb. The surprise of the torrent of air shooting into his mouth was just enough to loosen his grip and I was able to pull it away. Jon was more than a little taken aback by my quick resistance and was now in full get-the-fuck-outta-here mode. His first instinct was to shoot for the surface but I held him back just enough so he wouldn't rise too fast and risk an embolism. As I've said before, though, he's incredibly strong and broke my grip without too much trouble. I think it was enough, though, as long as he didn't hold his breath. When he started to bolt, the secondary regulator was yanked out of my mouth, but not before I saw one last opportunity to have a little fun. I'm sorry, but I just could not resist yanking his trunks down around his knees as he ascended, leaving nothing left to anyone's imagination. I could almost hear Ron laughing in his regulator, his eyes widening just a bit more behind his mask as he watched. Jon's trunks snarled his legs and dampened his ascent, which gave me just enough time to grab the regulator, shove it back in his mouth and get him calmed down a little, which is a task not too dissimilar from trying to calm a horse that doesn't want to be broken.
He calmed down after a few moments, though, and I signaled for us all to head up...calmly, this time.
"Dude!" He sputtered after we broke the surface, shaking the water from his hair. "What's up with you, man? I coulda drowned!" Ron broke surface next to me but was astute enough to stay out of what might be shaping up into a fight.
"Dude!" I mocked, "what'd I tell you about coming up too fast?! I probably saved you a trip to the hospital!"
"Wha..."
I knew I was being a bit of a drama queen but it was only to emphasize a point.
"It's just a pool!" Jon argued, throwing his hands up in exasperation.
"Ain't no such a thing as `just a pool'," I said, affecting one of my humorously serious voices, trying to lighten things up just a bit. "You could get an embolism in less water than this...," Oh, what the hell, I thought as I gave my drama queen side full reign for the moment. "...and then I'd have to drag your ass out of the pool and call the paramedics and hold your hand while you clutch your chest in agonizin' pain.."
Ron was beginning to catch on to my little charade and was having a hard time suppressing his laughter.
"...and then they'd get here and work on you and then throw you in the back of the ambulance, sayin' they couldn't do anything for you here..."
Light finally began to dawn for Jon and he, too, began to laugh a little.
"...and then they'd get you to the ER but it'd be too late and the Coroner'd pronounce and I'd have to answer a lot of dumb questions and sign a lot of dumb papers and, as if that weren't enough," I said, holding up both hands for dramatic emphasis, "...I'd be left here all alone to cook for myself! Is that what you reeeeeeally want?!" I shouted in mock hysteria. "You know it took me forever just to figure out the coffee machine!"
If there'd been a floor for them to roll on, both Jon and Ron would be down on it trying to keep their sides from splitting...you had to be there, I guess. Anyway, I got the mood lightened up and was able to drive home a point at the same time.
Jon knew I was right. "Sorry," he said sheepishly as he tried to stop laughing. "Truce?"
"Always...I'm sorry, too, but...man, I just couldn't resist," I laughed as Ron looked on, treading water, his own laughter calming and listening to us going on at each other. "Dude, make sure your trunks're up...someone might be looking!" I pointed, grinning.
Jon smirked again and quickly ducked back under to get himself resituated as Ron and I laughed again. A few raindrops here and there started to tap at the surface of the water and we knew it was time to head in. We quickly stripped the gear and got it into the carriage house, then grabbed up our towels and headed for the showers.
The swim had done my back a lot of good but my wrestling match with Jon had not. My back still nagged at me a little and, again, I let the hot water douse it liberally. He and Ron had only needed a couple of minutes to shower off and get dressed but I lingered a little longer in the copious warm steam. God, it felt good. The only thing missing right then was Jon. Later, I thought. I figured it was time to finish up and get dressed. I was getting really hungry and I knew the guys were too.
It was then that the power died.
`Great,' I thought. Just what we need. I figured the rain must've kicked up into a full blown storm, maybe, that had something to do with this. Power outages in this neck of the woods were not uncommon so I didn't think too much of it except as an annoyance, but still...there was something about it I couldn't quite put my finger on. The thought occurred to me that it could be the guys just playing a prank. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see that they clicked together, like old friends picking up on an old conversation. From our experience in the pool, I could see that they brought out the prankster in each other. "That's probably it," I began to convince myself.
I turned off the water and was met by dead silence in pitch blackness. The exhaust fan was no longer making its familiar humming noise, the lights over the sinks were dead, and I had that curious feeling again. It was that familiar, odd feeling that I was not alone, that there was someone close by, very close by.
"Hey look, you guys, this ain't funny!" I called. I got no response and realized, deep in some part of my being that I wasn't going to get one, either. At least, it wasn't going to be any kind of response I was comfortable with.
The warm steam of the shower was dissipating quickly and I was starting to get a little chilled. No, make that very chilled. The speed with which I was getting cold was, in itself, starting to literally, and figuratively, set my teeth on edge. I don't know why, but I was almost afraid to open the shower door. "Oh, quit being a damn wuss," I told myself aloud, my voice resonating off the marble walls offering little comfort. I slid the frosted glass door aside and planted one foot on the towel I'd set in front of the shower. I knew my towel was here somewhere. I thought I'd set it on a little stool right next to the shower, but in the darkness my orientation was totally off. To be honest, I was barely certain of which way was up at that moment as I tried to feel my way around like a blind man.
I'm usually an intelligent person. An intelligent person might have bothered to notice the very faint afternoon light peeking from beneath the bathroom door into the bedroom. An intelligent person would have then, maybe, followed the light to the door and opened it to get at least some light into the room. But no, my intelligence was definitely out getting pizza or something; it was definitely not there with me when I needed it.
"Dammit," I muttered to myself.
I knew that towel was around here somewhere. I felt my way around the walls, trying to get my bearings and form a mental picture of where I was in the room. Finally, I figured I knew where I was in relation to the stool and reached out. Expecting to feel the soft, fluffy feel of the 100 percent cotton towel, I instead felt the hard, crisp feel of what felt like a 100 percent cotton shirt over a very tight arm.
I pursed my lips with a little aggravation. "Okay, babe," I began. "...quit foolin' arou..." It was then that I heard it, again, clearly, in the middle of my head.
"Please listen t..." a whispered voice said.
I gasped. I grunted in sudden but minor pain as my ass hit the marble floor where I'd fallen from being so startled.
"...llip," it continued. I missed part of what it said because my butt was too busy smacking the floor and my mouth was too busy getting ready to, and I'm not embarrassed to say it, shriek like a bitch. "Why won't y..."
I didn't want to hear it. "Stopit, stopit, stopit, stopit!!!" I exclaimed, holding my hands to my ears. I wanted no more of it and made a slipping, stumbling dash for where I thought the bathroom door was. The knob...great! I fumbled with it and got it to work, hearing the latch click, but made the classic goof of trying to push a door that was meant to be pulled...Oh, the Three Stooges would've been proud. I started to cry out when I must've inadvertently pulled, out of the panic that besets one when trapped, and flung back the door, hitting my toe and scraping the skin as I did. I ran out into the bedroom, pulling the door behind me and slamming it shut.
I was a total wreck. Naked, dripping, my back was hurting again, my toe was screwed up and now here I was in the gloomy afternoon light of a day gone gray holding a door closed for dear life against I knew not what.
"Joooooooooooooon!" I screamed.
To Be Continued