Heart and Soul

Heart and Soul Chapter 4

One thing unique to this book is the subtitle of each chapter, letting you know the length of Emory's and Don's relationship each time.

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4

Gene

(Four Months After I Met Don)

Don had not met Jakob before. I only knew him from Trent's Friendsgiving last year. It would be nice to see him again, as well as his incredibly hunky husband, Lance. They were close with Cooper, and we were also invited. It seemed slightly odd, since we didn't know them well, but having a large gathering was sort of the idea. Cooper and Larry were serving as hosts for the spring party.

"I won't know many people here," Don said. "I hope I fit in okay."

"It's a house full of gay men. You'll blend."

As we knocked on the door, a Black woman answered.

"Oh," Don said, seeing someone who was clearly not a gay man.

"You're at the right place. I'm Ophelia, a friend of Cooper's. And Jakob and Lance."

"Hi, Ophelia. I remember you from Friendsgiving and Cooper's Christmas dinner."

"I completely remember you, Emory. We were all at Cooper's two-year AA meeting too. It's nice to see you again."

"And this is Don, my ..."

We looked at each other.

"Significant other," Don said, extending his hand.

We all smiled.

As I entered, I saw both the kitchen table and dining room table covered with food. It looked to be a "grazing" type of party and not a sit-down dinner.

I saw Mike and Trent. I knew them and introduced Don to them. Larry saw us and came over to tell us that Cooper was grilling chicken outside. Don was pleased to see someone he knew.

A man named Richard introduced himself. He looked vaguely familiar from last November. We made introductions from our end.

A woman came up. She introduced herself as Jakob's sister.

"Where is the man of the hour?" I asked.

Jakob's sister said he was outside "futzing" with decorations that Cooper had hung.

I looked around. I had told Don incorrectly; it wasn't all gay men. Quite a few knew Jakob from AA, so there were several straight people as well. We initiated a few introductions. Others approached us.

Mike and Trent were there. I gushed over Trent a little. Once Don found out that he was the gay voice on the radio he had listened to many times, he was a little taken himself. We talked about the upcoming production of his second play, "Signposts," that was inspired by the birthday boy. Although Trent wasn't involved in the production itself, he was the playwright. We promised to be there.

Jakob and Lance finally came inside. I introduced Don. I enjoyed watching my lover swallow hard when he saw Lance's body. Lance had a snug T-shirt on, with his muscles pressing against the short sleeves.

Jakob had his cuteness, but his body was more in line with mine — thin and relatively fit. Average was a good description.

After they moved on to other guests, Don grabbed my arm. "The birthday boy is one lucky young man."

"He is. But from what Cooper has told me, Lance feels like he is the lucky one."

"How sweet. They're lovely."

As people continued to snack and enjoy beverages, Don felt comfortable to roam and mingle. I was happy he was having a good time. Most people had come inside.

Cooper sat next to me on the couch. I congratulated him on being a good host. The invitation, although verbal, clearly conveyed "no gifts," but Jakob had a nice stack of cards. At least he would now know who Don was when he saw the signature.

"I have a question for you, Coop. What do you and Larry call each other with others?"

Cooper was confused. "I'm not sure I understand your question."

"Well, I don't know what to call Don and me. We aren't even four months into all this."

"Same here," Cooper said.

"Boyfriends sounds so ... childish of a term. We live in different houses, so are we ... partners? We don't live together."

"It's frustrating, isn't it? Speaking of partners, is he ... you know, aware of Gene?"

"He is," Don's voice said behind us. We turned to see him walking up.

I made room for him to sit next to me.

"I love hearing stories of Emory and Gene," Don said. "They warm my heart. His tales of honest love ... they're wonderful."

"How did you and Gene meet?" Cooper asked me.

"I've probably mentioned it before. I was in a carpool for a training seminar. We were on a committee ... it was an End Child Hunger movement. Back in my 40s, I was more involved with things. It was at the town convention center. There was ongoing construction, and they encouraged attendees to carpool. We had worked together for a couple of days, maybe three. We picked up right away that each other was gay. During the breaks, we got to know each other better. It was the little things at first, then ... soon, we both knew the other was completely unattached. In our last workshop, Gene let his hand rest on my arm. I loved it. I found him sweet. At the time, I thought he was the sweetest man I had ever met." I paused to stare into space. "I suppose I still do. That night, he looked into my eyes before we got out of the car. We kissed. The car didn't belong to either of us, so we each walked to our own. I walked over to him again and kissed him one more time. It was stronger. We made plans for an official date ... and after that date we were together about 20 years."

"I love that," Jakob said, sitting on the floor in front of the couch. "Or at least the part I heard."

Lance sat next to him. I noticed Don trying his damnedest to look at Lance without looking like he was looking. It made me smile.

"How long was it before you and Gene shared a house?" Lance asked.

"Gene had an apartment. We spent nights at each other's place for a few months. But we were madly in love. We knew it just a few weeks in. It's funny how things happened so quickly for us. We credited it being the right time in our lives. Both of us were single, but not necessarily looking. We just felt ... right. We made each other happy from Day One."

"I knew I wanted him to live with me after three months. Once his lease was up, he moved in. I had only had the house for a few years, so I changed the mortgage to have both our names on it."

"That quickly?" Don asked in surprise.

"We had deep talks. We made a ... commitment. Loyalty to each other. He knew I would never get married, but we promised to be faithful to each other — for as long as we were together."

"We were the same," Jakob said, leaning his head on Lance's shoulder. "But we decided we wanted to be married."

I had no problem with men who wanted to marry each other, but I wasn't going to spoil the moment by saying I found it pointless.

"Did either of you have family here?" Ophelia asked.

I looked at her and realized half the people at the party had gathered around to listen to me talk about Gene. I felt awkward being the center of attention.

"My family is ... was ... back in Oklahoma. I still have a brother there. Gene's family ... Lord, we went through so many funerals. We lost his mother first. His father hung on for a couple more years. Neither of them was that elderly. Early 70s."

I saw Don shift his weight. That was his current age.

"Gene was the youngest of three kids. The oldest was his brother James. We lost him at age 61. Heart attack. With an aunt and a cousin passing, we went to a lot of funerals with his family."

"I hate funerals," Don said under his breath.

I looked at him. He became aware that I had heard him.

"I don't do well at them," he softly said.

It was quiet for a second.

"The thing was, Gene would always tell me he was grateful I was there to help him through each one. He had the nicest quality of knowing what to say to make you feel good. As a teacher, he was very good with words."

"What did he teach?" Richard asked.

"English for the most part. He had one course in the day to teach Literature. He loved that. Gene had a way to make it come alive for the students."

"Was he out to them?"

I hesitated. "Not openly, no. He didn't want it to become ... an issue with any parents or families."

"I get that," Mike said. I knew he was a teacher too. "I felt that way for a long time."

"It was the hardest thing for Gene. He loved me so much — he believed in us — that not speaking openly about us ... it hurt him."

"Did the faculty know? He wouldn't have been fired, would he?" Jakob asked.

"Nothing like that. I had attended a Christmas party or two as his partner. He was upfront with his principal once he and I were living together and made a lifelong commitment."

"Hopefully that wasn't a big deal," Ophelia said.

"BIG deal? I wouldn't say that. But it was 25 years ago, so ... Gene said he could read some apprehension in his principal's body language when he told him. That didn't last long though. I think the principal was more concerned for Gene's sake. But he was liked by the kids. Loved. He got along with everyone."

"He seems like he was a very nice man," Trent said.

"Indeed, he was."

I glanced at the circle of people around me.

"Oh. My. I ... didn't mean to be the center of attention here. We should be giving Jakob our attention. It's his birthday."

"I actually liked listening to you," Jakob said.

"Me too," Don said, reaching for my hand. We interlocked fingers.

I felt that was the most I had talked about Gene since he had passed. It felt good to talk about him. I wasn't tempted to tear up or anything. I liked remembering him. And I appreciated Don for allowing me to express my feelings remembering the love of my life. But I fully realized I needed to be present for Don as well. I held his hand tightly.

Cooper took some toasted ravioli out of the oven and told guests that they were piping hot. People maneuvered their way to the kitchen again.

"So ... Jakob, how old are you today?" I asked, juggling a ravioli in my hand that was too hot to hold.

Jakob smiled at me floundering with the smoldering snack. I finally set it on a napkin to cool for a moment.

"I'm 29," he finally answered.

"Ah. Not even 30. So young."

"I don't feel young. Maybe it is because I was kicked out of the house at 17. I suppose I grew up fast in some regards."

"I – I don't know that full story," Don said. "But I'm sorry you had to deal with that. It sounds very cruel."

"I've tried to work past it," Jakob said.

"Because he's a-MAZ-ing," his husband said. "I'm so impressed that he can forgive his family."

"Small steps, at least," Jakob said to Lance.

An hour later, everyone gathered around a cake. There was one lit candle, but Cooper and Larry made sure that Jakob made a wish.

"What did you wish for?" Lance asked.

"I can't tell you. That's how it works."

His husband rolled his eyes. I noticed Lance cut himself a slice of cake much smaller than everyone else's. Not only did he work out, but he also made smart decisions about his nutrition. I had no idea how a person could have such willpower. Although I wasn't overweight. I typically managed to stay fairly thin. I didn't have a big sweet tooth.

Soon, Don and I began to make our goodbyes.

Jakob offered a hug, and I accepted it. He leaned close to my ear.

"My wish," he whispered, "... is to have a long, deep love like you and Gene had."

I pulled back and smiled at him. "Thank you," I whispered back. "You and Lance seem to be off to a good start."

He hugged me again.

"Happy birthday, Jakob."

His words completely warmed my heart during the drive back to Don's place.

"What a lovely outing," Don said, as we pulled into his driveway.

"It was."

"I'm sorry that I agreed to help out with this thing at the hospital. I'd love to spend the evening — and night — with you," he said with a sad expression.

"I understand. I love your volunteer work. You have a kind heart."

"I also have a hard dick just thinking about spending the night with you," he grumbled.

"Braggart. Get out of the car."

He winked at me and gave me a kiss.

Once I returned home, I hung my jacket in the bedroom closet. I sat on the bed looking at the picture of Gene and me.

I got down on my knees, kneeling before it. I rested my chin on the dresser, gazing into the eyes of my former partner.

"I still miss you," I whispered.

The picture didn't say anything back.

"It's not fair, G. I get another chance at love, and you ... you were taken from us — from me — way too quickly. It's not fair. I'm glad Don knows how important you still are. He's a wonderful man. I'm certainly not worthy of finding two such incredible men to share life with. Just know, I will always love you."

I stopped whispering to the photograph and kissed my finger, then placed it to Gene's lips.

—

Don and I developed an every-other-day pattern. We both felt it gave each of us space, but we saw each other regularly. We had sex once or twice a week. Some nights could be counted as sex, even if was just simple masturbation.

On this occasion, I was fixing dinner for us. Gene and I had purchased a small grill for the back porch, and I was grilling pork chops.

We sat down with salads beforehand.

He seemed lost in thought.

"Is everything okay, babe?"

Don was quiet for a moment. "I feel odd for saying this, but I was contacted by an old co-worker from the university."

"And?"

"Well, not to bring ... him ... up, but remember that married man I feel in love with 25 years ago?"

"... yeah."

"Apparently, he is not doing well. He was taken to the hospital. I received a call from a mutual friend today."

"I see."

"It has just ... brought up some thoughts."

"Does this friend know you were in love with this man?"

"I'm not sure. We never spoke of it, but he might have figured it out. There were probably enough clues."

Don didn't say anything. He was poking at his salad more than he was actually eating it.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked.

"The wrong things."

"Oh?"

"Never mind."

I just looked at him strangely. I stopped talking too.

"So, anyway..."

I smiled.

"If you must know ...," he continued. "I was thinking about the last time he and I fucked and how stupid I was for thinking we would spend time together over the holidays. I was such an idiot."

"You can't blame yourself for what you feel."

Don looked at me. "I'm sorry, Emory. I shouldn't think about such things. I hope I haven't offended you."

"Of course not."

I was clearing salad bowls when Don asked, "Do you remember the last time you and Gene made love?"

That was easy.

"The last time we made love was really nice. At the time, of course, I could never have known it would be the last time."

Gene sometimes slept nude with me and sometimes he would slip on lounge pants to sleep in. A neighbor's cat had awakened me, and I rolled over to touch Gene's chest. He was lying on his side directly in front of me, and my arm reached over him. I breathed in the back of his neck.

The two of us were so different in so many ways. Physically, he was probably more fit than me. He had been retired for four years, saying farewell to his students at 63. I still had three years to go until I was 65. He managed to exercise enough to where he didn't put on any pounds after staying at home. I always loved his body. I loved touching his chest. It was completely smooth. Even though I found hairy chests alluring, I still loved his.

Roaming. Touching. Caressing.

I rolled up to him tighter. My bare cock was erect at ... what was it? 2:02 a.m. Pedro was in the house. I pressed my erection into his ass cheek so delicately covered in thin cotton.

When he reached up to put his hand over mine, I felt guilty for waking him with my sensual touch. He held my hand for a few seconds, and then he moved my hand down to his crotch. His bulging crotch. I groped the mound of male hardness with the light sleepwear preventing me from touching his skin.

My hand slipped below the waistband, and I gripped his hard-on. His thick, warm, rigid manhood. A drop of pre-cum had made his loungewear have a small wet spot.

One of his hands gripped one of the wooden dowels in the headboard; the other slipped a thumb below the waistband and pulled his needless clothing down a foot. He lifted his hip to let the fabric bunch below his balls.

I let go of his organ to slowly feel his ass cheeks. He hummed slightly as I touched them, but mostly he just breathed heavily.

"Fuck me," he eventually whispered.

"Now? You sure?"

"Fuck me, Em."

My middle finger traveled up and down his crevice. Eventually, I poked at the pucker of his entrance. With no lube, I twirled small circles until the fingertip went in. He hummed in approval.

I let go of his body to reach my arm down into the nightstand. I squirted lube in my palm and rubbed some on my dick. I touched my fingertip to my goal and put a slight bit of liquid there.

Gene typically accepted my penetration without a lot of preparation, but I still loved "preparing" him.

Soon, the length of my cock went all the way in. His body stiffened momentarily, but then he relaxed. Pedro was buried.

He let out a slow exhale. "Fuuuuuuuuuck meeeeeee," he whispered so faintly.

I pushed my cock in more firmly. He reached down to push his sleepwear down ever further, bunching it below his thighs.

My arm slipped under his neck, and I held his forehead in the gentlest of headlocks. My mouth was close to his ear. He could listen to me pant. His arm moved back to reach for my ass, trying to press us together tighter. His other hand kept its firm grip on the wooden dowel.

We were writhing. We were grinding. Pushing. Holding. Fucking.

As my cock kept shoving inside him, his face turned. We were both panting and breathing heavily. Our mouths were so close. His chin moved into my mouth, and then he turned enough for us to kiss momentarily. I thrust in harder in our kiss. He groaned lightly and turned back.

We held each other tightly as I fucked him from behind. Soon we were grunting deeply but not loudly.

Everything was sensual. Intimate. Quiet but intense.

Fucking. Grinding. Thrusting.

My waist pushed into his ass. Pounding slowly.

My other hand held his shoulder then traveled down his bare side, to his bare hip, to his bare cock. He moaned. I squeezed us tighter while still thrusting into his insides with steady, firm rhythm.

I hadn't been inside Gene in weeks. It felt so good. We were always good, but some nights seemed more special. This moment — this fuck — was particularly good.

He strained to hold my ass while gripping the headboard. My hand pushed his face to kiss me again. My other hand worked his cock.

"Fuck yes," he whispered into our kiss. "Fuck meeeee."

Another minute of me pushing my hardness inside him passed, and I knew I was nearing my climax.

"I'm getting close, G."

He reached down to remove my hand from his erection, and he jerked his flesh incredibly hard.

"Come in me," he panted. His strokes churned his cock.

"I'm ... I'm so close," I grunted.

"Come in me. Fuck me." His hand jerked his hard-on with no mercy.

"G." I moaned. "I'm coming. I'm coming."

"Yes," he breathed.

I pushed my cock inside him as hard as my body could press. Spasm after spasm entered him. I could recognize by his staggered breathing that he was sharing my climax. His arm was vibrating violently.

We exhaled.

We both panted hard.

"Sorry to wake you up," I whispered while smiling.

"I'm glad you did," he said, placing a peck on my lips. "I guess I'll wash the sheets in the morning."

He pulled up his clothing.

"You probably have cum all over your side of the bed. Hold me on my side," I said.

I turned my back to him, and he moved up behind me to hold me.

"But it was nice. It was four days before I lost him."

"Oh. I'm glad you can retain that memory," said Don. "The last time you made love will always mean something to you."

"I think so. After he died, I tried to remember every detail of our last time."

The microwave timer beeped, and I removed the bread from the oven. After slicing it, I liked setting down the loaf with steam still rising from the baked accompaniment.

"Dinner is delicious, Em."

"It's funny, Cooper sometimes will call me that," I said.

"Would you prefer I not?" Don asked.

"I'm completely fine with it. All the things you call me are fine."

"All the things? I've been avoiding dear, since that was what Gene called you."

"You call me baby, particularly during sex. You've let a honey go here and there in the car too."

"Sounds like me. That's all okay?"

I leaned in to put my face mere inches from his. "It is ..." I gave him a peck on the lips. "... baby."

I topped off Don's glass of wine. I was halfway through my beer, although I had poured it into a pilsner instead of drinking from a bottle.

Pet names just flowed so naturally with Don and me in our conversation. Gene was always "G." But he knew that was a sign of love. Every time I said it. Now, I had moved past my early doubts when Don and I were new. I was happy for me. I knew in my heart that Gene was happy for me too. I didn't know if the love Don and I shared could ever match what Gene and I had, but it was still love, nonetheless.

I was thrilled to be in love. It came out in the little things.

Don helped with the dishes. And I loved him for that.

Don would turn out lights as we headed to bed. And I loved him for that.

Don helped me fold laundry. And I loved him for that.

Don made me feel sexy, even when Pedro was sleeping. And I loved him for that.

I loved him. Three years ago, I never thought feeling love again could ever be a possibility.

As Don walked past the fireplace, he paused at the mantel. He saw the picture of Gene and me. He walked quickly to the bedroom. That picture used to be on the dresser.

"You ... you moved that picture."

"I did."

"Why?"

I was sure I looked awkward, but I knew the answer.

"It's silly."

"Emory..." he persisted.

"You and I make love in the bedroom all the time. I – I just think it is better ... for you ... if Gene's picture isn't in here with us."

"Emory, it's never bothered me."

"I know. I'm just moving it. I'm not replacing Gene. I ..." I looked down. "I just want you to know that ... the bedroom ... It's our space now. You and me."

"I don't know how I feel about that. Of course, it's sweet, but ... you don't have to change a thing. I've never felt threatened by your memories of Gene. In fact, I love them. It shows me who you are. Your memories show how big your heart is."

I held him in my arms. "You're very sweet."

"I'm very lucky you have let me come into your life."

"You have. I feel fortunate that we have found each other. Please don't be worried that I'm replacing Gene with you. He will always have a place in this house." I looked Don in the face. My eyes locked onto his. "But, Don ... the bedroom is your place in the house now. Well, everywhere. But ... you, me ... the bedroom confirms you are the man in my life. You are the man I love."

We kissed.

"Thank you," he softly said.

We both brushed our teeth. Don slipped into the sheets wearing pajama bottoms. We had not established a consistent routine. When sex was a given, we always slept naked. When we were just enjoying the night at the other's home, we usually wore something. On occasion, I'd be nude, and he would have something on. We weren't in a rut. I liked that.

I entered the bed wearing just briefs. We kissed once again, and I turned out the lamp on my nightstand.

Don turned his back to me and wriggled into a spooning position with my arm around him. I buried my face in his neck and mumbled, "Love you."

"Me too," he said back in the darkness.

I let my hand roam over his chest. My thumb played with a nipple for a few seconds. I so wanted to fuck but I knew my dick wasn't going to cooperate. Damn Pedro all to hell.

I held him tighter. He reached up to press my hand to his chest. I loved feeling the warmth of his skin. We held each other tight.

A minute later, he moved my hand to his crotch. I could feel the hard crowbar below the cotton fabric. I reached inside to feel his cock.

"Mmm. Want me to take care of that?"

"Actually, I just want to go to sleep with you holding it."

"I can do that."

Did Don know my own cock wasn't up to the task? Or was he just tired? Or content?

Even without sex, we knew how to express intimacy. And I loved him for that.

* * * *

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