Cast of Characters: James Thomas Arthur (Jamey) Harold Brian Arthur -- Jamey's Brother (Habby) Harold Garfield Arthur -- Jamey's dad William Pitts -- Roommate (Will) Ronny -- Will's best friend. George Wiggins Darrel -- George's roommate Dr. Steve Arlan Jordan -- Doctor Grant (Buddy) Windward -- Waiter at Holdren's John -- Neighbor across the hall. Jerry -- John's roomie Seth -- Ronny's cousin Luke -- Seth's partner Robert Rexburg -- High school friend Yolanda -- Robert's wife. Joey -- Flight Attendant
From Chapter 27
"Hi Sweetheart. What's up? Done studying already?" Said Steve.
"I haven't even started. Been putting out fires."
"Should I be concerned?"
"Nope!" I smiled. And for maybe the first time since I chose Steve, I was never so sure of my love or my resolve.
Chapter 28
As it worked out, my homework was a breeze, with cut and paste, and file and photo inserts in the report I was preparing. I did the research alright, but it all went like clockwork and I was finished in record time. I slipped out of my place, knocked lightly on John's door -- to let him know I wouldn't be there tonight, and I then walked/ran, Boy Scout Style to Grants to get my car. My step felt lighter than ever before. I was getting in the Z, and his dorm door opened.
"Who's out there! Get away from that car!"
"It's Jamey. I'm going over to Steve's." I said recognizing Grant's form in the doorway.
"Can't you come in for a sec?" He said. "My roomie's not here. I wanted to talk to you."
"Really can't -- sorry, Babe! Steve's expecting me." I lied.
He ran all the way out to my car in the frigid night air his tighty-whities, no shirt. "Jame! I'm moving in with John!" He said almost desperately.
"I know. We already talked about it -- remember? Or was that Buddy? Do you even know what the other is doing?"
"We know. We all know. Jamey -- I don't want John! I want you!" he said with pleading eyes, and he threw his arms around me and pressed his body close to mine. He felt cold from exposure to the cold night air.
"Grant -- or Buddy -- which is it?"
"Buddy." He admitted. That softened my resolve. I walked him back to his room. We went in and he shut the door. "Jamey -- please -- I love you -- don't you know that?"
"I do know it, Buddy. I do. But -- you also love John, don't you?"
"I dunno. Grant wants to move in with him -- not me. I want - - you!"
I sat. I felt defeated. I don't want to hurt anyone.
"Buddy -- I don't know what to do." I said. "I'm -- committed now -- to Steve Jordan. I love him. I'm IN love with him. I'll always love you and Grant - - and John. But -- give John some time -- give him a chance. He's a hella nice guy. And -- Buddy -- he's not going to hurt you."
"What if I hurt him?"
"I mean he won't hurt you on purpose. I know you wouldn't do that either. But don't let Grant overpower you in this. YOU make sure that John knows where you stand."
"But -- moving in -- that's a big step."
"Technically, you are only becoming dorm room mates. And - - that's not happening for six weeks. C'mere." I hugged him. "Buddy, you will always be a very special friend for me. I hope you feel the same. You were my first."
"Technically, that was Grant!" He said.
Grant -- Buddy -- you're the same person to me. I love all of you and always will -- as a friend -- a very close friend if you will let me. But -- give John a chance, huh?"
No response.
"I have to go, dude. See you later."
"Bye." He said, not very enthusiastically.
I ran and jumped into my car. I was crying before I got it started. It kills me to hurt someone else. Was it my stupidity that caused this? John's hurting. Buddy's hurting. They both knew the risks. I told them. That should justify me. But somehow, I just don't feel that justified.
I drove to Steve's. His car was there, and though I expected he'd be there, I still got that little thrill and at least partially forgot my sorrow of a few minutes ago. I knocked lightly in case he was sleeping. No answer. I used the key he gave me and let myself in. When I got closer to his room, I could hear the shower running. I tiptoed into the bathroom. The shower was running, but I didn't see Steve in the mirror from where I was standing. I didn't notice immediately that there was no steam in the bathroom, even though the door had been closed.
When I got closer, I saw him, crumpled down under the running cold shower. I threw the glass door open and turned off the icy water. He was nearly blue and I couldn't tell if he was breathing or not. I touched him and he jerked and then started to shiver almost uncontrollably. I grabbed him and pulled him out straight and quickly dried him off, and then with more strength that I knew I had, I carried his limp form to the bed and covered him up.
I called 911. They told me to make sure he was breathing. He was. Then they said to do whatever I could to get him body temperature up. They suggested I climb in with him and hold him close, which was my first reaction. I told them the address and to just come in when they arrived, as I had not yet locked the door.
I got under the covers and wrapped myself around him. He moaned weakly and kept shivering. It scared me that he was so cold. I wondered how long he had lain under that cold running water. I wondered if my talking to Grant had made matters worse. He seemed to shiver even more as I held him. I tried to make as much body contact as possible, even making sure our faces touched.
The paramedics arrived after a very long five minutes. It seemed to me that instead of making him warm, he was draining the heat out of me. The paramedic told me that was exactly what was happening. The heat was draining from me to him. They replaced me with a warm thermal blanket. I had started getting dressed when,
"Jamey?" Steve whispered.
I flew to his side, kneeling next to the bed. I placed my hand on his cheek. "Steve!" I cried. "Oh, Steve! What happened?"
"I fell -- in the shower. Must have hit my head on one of the valves going down. Man, I have a headache - - and I'm cold!
We're working on that Dr. Jordan!" Steve looked up at the EMT.
"Eddie! How - ?"
"I hurried over as soon as your -- friend -- called."
"What's it look like?" Asked Steve
"Nasty bump. Can you feel this?"
"Ouch!"
"Good. You're okay Doc. Did I hear you say you fell in the shower? Um -- do we need to install bars?"
"No, Eddie!" Steve said, in mocking anger. "I just have to look at the floor of the bath to make sure no soap is there. My bad!"
"Are you feeling warmed now?"
"Yeah, a little."
"Well, we'll see you soon at the hospital, Doc. Oh! Is this your cute new boyfriend I've heard so much about?" He asked.
"Heh! Yep! He is kinda cute, isn't he? This is Jamey. Jamey, Eddie."
"Hey!" I said, a little embarrassed.
"Hey Jamey. Thanks for saving the doc, here. We need him. And -- `course he's not so bad lookin' either! I'd a'gone for him myself if I knew he was gonna be up for grabs."
"Haha! You're not so bad yourself, Eddie. Thanks for getting here so quickly." Quipped Steve.
"Well, you seem to be feeling and looking a lot better, Doc. Think your cute boy here can handle it from here?"
"Oh he knows well how to handle `it'! I've no doubt he'll think of a way to keep me warm!"
"You're a naughty man, Doc. I've always liked that about you! Take care. Great to meet you too, Jamey, you lucky boy!"
I grinned while wondering if everyone would always see me as a boy and Steve as a man. "Thanks for everything, Eddie."
Eddie left and Steve said, "Okay, you can take those clothes off again and climb in here. I am not quite up to normal temperature yet." He smiled demurely as he opened up the covers to reveal a very engorged soldier bouncing above his stretched out abs. I climbed in and pulled the covers over us both. Our soldiers caressed each other and stayed in their turgid state until we both fell blissfully asleep.
I woke up and found my face resting on Steve's softly matted chest hair, his one hand around my waist and the other between us, gently but firmly holding our soft warm soldiers together. I felt hot, but didn't want to wake Steve.
I sighed and relaxed again and was almost asleep.
"Sweetheart -- you awake?"
"Yeah. How do you feel.?" I answered.
"Not bad, considering. My head hurts though."
"Want me to get something for you?"
"Some ibuprofen wouldn't be bad. I think I have some Advil in the bathroom cabinet."
I got up and went to the cabinet. I didn't see any. "None here, Steve!" I hollered.
"Oh. There might be some in the kitchen cabinet above the microwave. I don't use it much"
I looked and there was a bottle of Motrin. I took it to Steve, but when I opened it, there was only one left. "Only one left here, and none in the bathroom. That looks like you have used quite a lot of it." I mused.
"Jamey! I said I don't use it much, can't you accept that?" He said, it seemed way too emotionally. Then I remembered how he offered me strong drugs a couple times as if it were a normal thing for him.
"I can go the pharmacy and get some." I said.
"No -- Honey, it's after 2:30 in the morning. I don't want you to - "
"Even if I want to?" I said.
"Well, as long as you are going out, go to the hospital pharmacy. I'll call in a prescription."
"Ohh- kaaay". I said. I don't think he noticed my sarcasm.
I threw on my clothes that were crumpled on the floor from earlier. He threw me keys. "Take my car."
I didn't really want to drive his car, but it wasn't worth arguing over. When I got to the hospital's all night pharmacy, I had to have a conference with the pharmacist. "These are not for me, they're for - "
"I know who they're for. But by law I still have to give you the warnings. Dr. Jordan should not take more than one every 4 hours, but can be alternated with ibuprofen every two hours if the pain is severe."
"I thought this WAS ibuprofen." I said.
"No, this is hydrocodone with acetaminophen. We have some generic ibuprofen if he wants some."
"He -- probably -- does." I said. She gave me the bag with both pain killers in it.
"He should not take the ibuprofen on an empty stomach. Milk will be good for taking it."
"Okay." I answered.
When I got back to Steve, I asked which he wanted first. "Just give me the meds, and get me some water." He commanded. It seemed to me that he was -- maybe overly sensitive -- or something. I did as I was told and he opened the bag. "What's this crap?"
"It's ibu - "
"I KNOW what it is! Why did you buy generic for me?" he said almost angrily Then he popped six of them in his mouth, and started to open the prescription bottle.
"Steve, you're not supposed to take them all at once. Two hours - "
"Oh! When did you become the doctor?" He said, and he popped two of the heavy painkillers in his mouth.
"Steve, why are you yelling at me? I am only telling you what the pharm - "
"Yeah yeah, I know all the precautions. I'll be fine!"
"Do you want something to eat -- or -- some milk or something?" I offered.
"Just come back to bed and stop worrying!" he snapped. He saw my hurt look and softened. "I'm sorry, Sweetheart. But really, you don't have to be the dad right now." He opened the covers, inviting me to come back to bed. I turned off the overhead light and came back to bed. I snuggled up to his chest as before, because I had gotten cold while on the errand. "What time do you have to be back in class tomorrow?"
"Not until 10." I answered.
"Good. We won't need an alarm then. G'night sweetheart." His relaxed chest, covered with soft fine hair felt so good on my face. We both fell quickly asleep, as he stroked my head and neck, and I played with the thinning hair on his head.
I woke up to a strange noise. It was still dark. I felt beside me and Steve wasn't there. I saw light from a crack under the bathroom door. Then I realized what the noise was. Steve was in there puking his guts out. I almost tripped on the sheet as I flew out of bed and over to the door. I stopped short and gently opened it.
Steve was on his knees in front of the toilet, tears coursing down his face, as he tried to retch out some more of last night's dinner. Nothing was left, but I saw red dripping out of his mouth.
"Steve!" I said.
"I didn't want to wake you. I'm sorry!" he croaked. I started to say I told you so, but thought better of it.
"How much does this happen?" I asked.
"Not very often."
"How often is `not very often'?" I asked. No answer. "Steve, I'll be coming here to live soon. You can't keep it a secret forever."
"It's nothing!"
"This is NOT `nothing', Dr. Jordan. You wouldn't even think of treating any patient to this. How often?" This time I put emphasis to tell him to stop evading the question.
"I told you it was nothing! Maybe once or twice a week."
"Steve -- I love you. You're 15 years older than I am. If you want to stay with me -- or vice versa, you have to take care of yourself! You're addicted to this crap - - aren't you?! Once or twice a week? For crap sakes!"
He wiped off his mouth and stood up. "I wouldn't say addicted."
"No, obviously not. Your headache -- it wasn't from the bump on your head -- was it?"
He looked like a whipped dog, as he lowered his head and confessed, "No. Sweetheart, it was - "
"Okay, first of all, when we are arguing, don't call me sweetheart. It kind of feels like crap when you do that -- like it's a way you use to control me."
"Jamey -- it's how I got through med school. It got me through!"
"And now you have to get through life -- without it."
He looked long and hard at me. Then he said. "I need you to -- to -- help me. I told you not to be the dad last night. But that's exactly what I need. But -- I can't do it until you move in here -- next semester. Six weeks more won't hurt any - "
"I'm moving in tomorrow!" I declared.
"I can't ask you to - "
"I'm not waiting to be asked, Steve. I want you well for me!"
Big tears filled Steve's eyes. "It -- it's the worst at night."
"What are you gonna do to stop? What is it you're addicted to?"
"The hydrocodone -- Vicodin -- mostly, but maybe also the ibuprofen."
"So when you were offering it to me, you had plenty, huh?" I said.
"Yeah. I just ran out today. And if I had some earlier, I wouldn't have taken as much -- probably."
"Um -- what caused the bleeding?" I asked.
His head went down -- as in shame -- as he said, "The Motrin. I noticed that it works faster on an empty stomach."
"Well, at least you don't smoke!" I said in half disgust.
"What?"
"I've seen so many doctors smoking! It's going to kill them someday, and they should know it more than anyone else -- yet they still do it!"
"I don't know why I escaped that one! They do it -- like me -- to get through med school. Then they are too busy to stop later on. It takes a lot of will power and concentration to stop."
"You're even making excuses for them!" I said. "Well, anyway, have you ever heard the phrase, - "
"Doctor, heal thyself?" He finished my quote.
"Yeah." I said. "Well, maybe you need help. Steve, you had me come down to the hospital so you could examine my insides. I think you should see an internist -- besides yourself! -- and get his recommendations."
He looked at me as if he had been whipped. I wanted to cry -- bit didn't. "Jame -- I'm afraid." He whispered, his eyes glassy again.
My heart broke for him. He wants so bad to be "the dad" for me -- and I like that, too. Now he feels like a chink in his armor has been discovered. "It's okay to let me in, Steve. If anything, I love you more. You've seen me at my weakest. And you love me even more for it -- right?"
"Yes." He admitted.
"Then let me in -- and let me love you more too."
"Sometimes you seem twice your age." He smiled through his tears.
"That would put me just a little older than you." We both laughed. "Are you about finished for the night?"
"I guess."
"How's your head?"
"Hurts like hell. Most of the stuff I took is in the toilet."
"Does it feel better when you hold me?"
"It always feels better when I hold you."
"Good! Let's go back to bed and hold on for dear life."
"You're a goon, Jamey Arthur! Just let me rinse my mouth out." He did that and brushed his treeth.
"I might be a goon, but I'm loveable!" I said pushing him into bed.
"That's a fact!" he said, pulling me on top of him. I relaxed and our bodies melded into one mass. My head was again on his chest, so my hardening soldier was between his legs. He squeezed it several times with his hairy legs. It hardened to full attention. I sighed then relaxed again on top of him, and he caressed my head, neck and shoulders. He massaged my shoulders. "That feels good." He said.
"Massaging my shoulders feels good to you? Well, it feels like heaven to me."
"It does. It makes the pain in my head and stomach more bearable."
"Well, then I won't stop you. To me, it feels like heaven. OH! Yeah! That's good!" I moaned. He wrapped his hands around me and wrenched me up to his face and kissed me. I felt his wood flex, and mine answered.
"Let's go back to sleep for a couple hours." He said.
"Yeah," I yawned, "it's been a long night."
"You understand, Mr. Arthur -- just because you move out doesn't mean you are not liable for the rest of the semester's rent." The lady at the student services told me.
"It's okay. I just wanted you to know that no one will be there, in case of any -- well, stuff that may happen there. And also I wanted to make it available in case someone wanted it early -- for any reason."
I moved all my stuff out and to Steve's condo after my classes the next day.
It took four trips in my car. But it's not so far, so it was okay.
"Dad?"
"Jamey! How are you? Did you get that ring thing figured out yet?"
"It's been a pretty busy week. I just moved in with Steve."
"Oh! Do you think that's wise?"
"I was going to move at the end of the semester, but he needs me -- now."
"Needs you?"
"I'll let him explain if he wants, - don't ask him. Just trust me -- it's important."
"Does that mean I can rent your room out to someone else?"
"Haha! Steve needs me here with him for awhile. But we can maybe come down there the weekends he doesn't work."
"How often is that?"
"He works alternate weekends."
"I guess that's okay. I can't expect to keep you forever. Alternate weekends will work. Habby might miss you."
"I miss both of you too. Is that the way life is?"
"Yeah. I remember how I missed my parents when I got married. `But a man shall leave his father and mother and cleave to his wife.' It's what's supposed to happen."
I felt a pang as he quoted that scripture. Steve isn't exactly my wife! "Yeah, well, maybe that also refers to cleaving to your boyfriend."
"Oh, Jamey, I meant nothing by that. I just meant that children are supposed to leave the nest. Dr. Laura would have thrown you out two years ago!" he laughed.
"Because I'm gay?"
"Because you're over 18. She believes that after 18 you're on your own. I don't necessarily agree."
"Good". I said. "Anyway, I can't be reached at my dorm phone any more."
"Thanks for the warning. Do you want to say hi to Habby?"
"Of course."
"Hi, Jamey!" My brother sounded so young. As I get out and away, he sounds younger and younger.
"Hi, Hab! So, is Melanie still dating that other guy?"
"Yeah." He said, not sounding the least bothered.
"Sooo -- I guess your hand's getting a workout, eh little brother?"
"Jamey! Shut up!" He said laughing. "My hand always gets a workout! But I found a new love!"
"What? Oh! You discovered horses? Or is it your car?"
"Your funny! No, I'm dating someone else!""
"Oh. I hate to be too much of a big brother, but, Habby, I hope you don't just judge a date be how fast you can jump in the sack."
"We haven't done anything -- yet." He said defensively.
"Well, I'm not Dad, but as your brother -- your LOVING brother, just take it a little slower this time."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"You don't want to be a daddy at 17."
"Okay, okay -- that's not gonna happen -- k?" He shot back defensively. Damn, I'm feeling like an old man! I can actually remember feeling exactly as defensive as Habby was being!
"I'm sorry, Hab. I'll see you in a couple weeks. Let me talk to Dad again."
"Bye, J. Love you!"
"Hi again." Dad said.
"I just wanted to say g'bye."
"Oh. Okay. By the way -- how IS Steve?"
"After too long a pause, I answered, "Okay."
"That was convincing." Dad said, sarcastically.
"He has -- erm -- challenges -- like everyone else. But he's fine and -- we're fine."
"Good." Dad said. I knew he was crying out inside for an explanation, but he didn't ask, so I felt better not saying any more.
Saturday Morning Steve and I drove up to Carmel. There's a 17-mile drive there that Steve wanted to show me. I drove, because his head was aching. I stopped every 15 to 20 minutes to rub his head and temples. I was so happy I moved in with him. So was he after his initial objections.
The couple nights after I moved in -- before the Carmel drive -- I was up several times each night doing that same thing. He would wake me up moaning, and I caressed his face, temples, head and shoulders until he was relaxed enough to go back to sleep. Mostly his forehead. He would lie on his back and I stroked his forehead, sometimes up to an hour.
Friday night, before our drive, he said, "Jamey, Sweetheart, you can't be up half of every night with me. You need to concentrate on school."
"I can do it as long as I can do it!" I said, "Besides, after next week is Christmas break."
"But after that is the push to finals. You can't - "
"ShhHH!" I warned. "By then hopefully you won't NEED it as much."
"Addiction isn't that easy to kick. It will be a long haul until - "
"Steve -- how much do you love me?"
"What kind of question is that?"
"How much?"
"I can't quantify it! I'd do anything for you!"
"Uh huh!" I said.
"Well, I would! If -- oh!"
"Steve, I hate to remind you but - - I'm young. If you are still struggling this much after Christmas, then I will be able to do it until end of semester. And if it's still bad then -- I'll take a break from school -- not quit -- but take a break -- to get you well. I WANT you well!"
Steve started sobbing in my arms. When he got under control, he said, "Jamey -- you're who I've been waiting for. And you're definitely worth the wait!" He kissed me and I kissed him back, and since there was no school the next day, we made some sweet love before going back to sleep. He didn't wake up again until morning.
As we were driving past the mansions, beaches and golf courses between Monterrey and Carmel, a thought hit me like a thunderbolt and I said, "Steve!"
"Huh?" He said. He was staring out at the ocean, past a copse of Monterrey pines, and unconsciously rubbing his neck. My exclamation snapped him out of whatever he was doing.
"Last night! What happened?" I said.
"Um -- I don't know what -- I mean the sex was sweet, but - - ?"
"After the sex, you slept like - "
"- like a baby!"
"Hey, it's worth a try!"
I found a place where there were rocks, and even though it was cold as hell, we walked down toward the beach, and found a spot unseen from up above. I sucked him off. The crashing waves masked the sound of his excited screams as he got off. He enjoyed the rest of the ride more than the first. He slept the rest of the way until we got home! He had seen this many times, but it was my first time. I enjoyed it more, knowing that Steve was not in pain.
For the next week, we worked out little "experiment" every night, no matter how tired we were. A couple nights, Wednesday and Thursday before we went down to Bellflower, I topped and had a hard time staying awake doing it. But every night, he slept all night afterward. I also did a bit of internet research. Sure enough, I learned that sex releases a tremendous amount of endorphins and gives you a euphoric feeling.
The night before we drove to see Dad and Habby, we got really wild and I slept better than I had in the two weeks before. But we were up early to start our drive south. I did all the driving -- always. Damn I love this guy!
Notes: Thanks for all your sweet and supportive comments -- even overlooking my many f-ups! I love you all! Steve