By Donny Mumford - Laureate Author

Published on Oct 14, 2023




"I'm John Darling; nice to meet you."

Dr. Berry's eyebrows go up as he asks, "The coma patient?"

John nodded, "Uh-huh. How did you know?"

Finishing his cigarette, the young doctor steps on the smoldering butt and says, "Like many of the doctors here, I followed your case from the day you were admitted, which coincidentally was the first day of my residency."

John didn't realize he was sort of a celebrity among the hospital's staff. Mostly, though, he was intrigued by this doctor's youthful good looks. Dr. Berry wears eyeglasses with tortoiseshell frames that help make him look like a teenager who looks familiar to John. The first chance he gets, John's anxious to look more closely at the doctor to figure out who he looks like.

Dr. Ryan Berry isn't a teenager, of course; he's twenty-three and doing his residency in 'emergency medicine' at Boston Medical Center. He graduated high school at age sixteen and earned his undergraduate degree in three years, majoring in chemistry, then four years at the University of Massachusetts Medical School. Now, he's doing his residency here.

John can't maintain eye contact because the doctor is openly gawking at him with an expression on his face like he sees a ghost. Touching John's shoulder, the doctor mutters, "The elevators for the cafeteria are on the other side of the doctor's lounge. Ah, I'll be glad to take you through the lounge if you'd like."

"Thank you, I'd appreciate that. Ah, I'm meeting someone for lunch, but I still have a few minutes. Heh-heh, it was kind of a shock seeing a doctor smoking. No offense intended."

The doctor grins and mumbles, "Yeah, as I said a minute ago, I read somewhere that smoking may be bad for you." He chuckles, then adds, "Anyway, the last I heard, you're doing good with your physical therapy, but you still haven't regained your memory; is that still the case?"

John says, "Yes, I have amnesia, but I've been released from the hospital as of yesterday. I'll be doing outpatient therapy and counseling now."

Dr. Berry is almost exactly John's height, a little wider and heavier than John. Still staring at John, grinning and slowly shaking his head, the doctor says, "Well, c'mon, I'll walk you through the lounge."

With Dr. Berry's arm across John's shoulders, their sides rub together when going inside through the door; John's thinking, 'Oh, no!' because he's become aroused by the bodily contact, and his penis is soon poking out the front of his flimsy sweatpants.

Because the doctor seemed interested in John's amnesia, he was going to mention recovering a bit of his memory, except all he can think about now is his penis getting harder and Dr. Berry's hand against the back of his neck.

John gets aroused like this when he's with Andy, too, so he's obviously sexually attracted to both young men. What else but sexual attraction could get his dick this hard?

Inside the doctors' lounge, Dr. Berry says to a short, plump woman in green hospital scrubs with a stethoscope around her neck, "Hey, Debra, meet John Darling, previously the ICU coma patient."

She holds her hand out to John, saying, "Yes, I heard you've been released--good for you, young man. I'm Dr. Connor; I followed your progress from when you were first admitted."

John doesn't know what to say about the doctors following his progress, so he settles for a mumbled, "Thanks, that was... Um, it's nice to meet you," shaking her hand.

Dr. Connor smirks at Dr. Berry, "Seriously, Ryan? I did a double take seeing you two. You could be brothers or twins."

He nods, "Imagine how I felt seeing John outside sitting on the bench. Heh-heh, it was a major shock, like looking in a mirror!." Then to John, he says, "Haven't you noticed how much we look alike?"

Shaking his head, John now looks closely at the doctor, then exclaims, "Holy shit, yeah! Now I see it; wow! At first, I thought you were simply the best looking... um, but yes, it's amazing how much we look alike!" John realized at the last second that he was about to compliment his own good looks.

Even with the doctor wearing glasses, it was startling to John how similar the doctor and he were--identical pale complexions, blond wavy hair, and big dark-blue eyes. The doctor's hair was almost as unruly as John's, and their noses and bow-shaped lips were also very similar; plus, they had the same dimples when they smiled. Amazing!

Dr. Ryan Berry waves at a man and calls out, "Hey, Bruce! Check this out. Meet my twin brother?"

A tall, thin, redheaded man about thirty, drinking from a can of Pepsi, looks startled as he says, "What? Omigod! Seriously, Ryan, is he your brother?"

Dr. Debra Connors says, "It fooled me, too. No, Bruce, as far as they know, they aren't related. That's the coma boy, John Darling."

Bruce glances at John's crotch and the poking out of his sweatpants. Then, looking up at John, he mumbles, "I had a consultation with your Dr. Hines about you but never got over to see you. You're a lucky young fellow looking like our Dr. Berry here!" He holds out his hand.

Shaking hands, John mumbles, "Oh, ha, yeah, I guess so... um, thanks."

Nodding in the general direction of John's crotch, Bruce smirks at John and says, "It looks like you've, um, sprung a... I mean, well, never mind. Ah, Jesus, though, you both look like teenagers. Seriously, Ryan, you two could be related for real, all joking aside."

John saw Bruce looking at his boner, but there was nothing he could do about it. Even worse, he's just now realizing he's almost embracing Dr. Berry, leaning against him, his arm around the back of the doctor's waist. Blushing again, John straightens up and tries moving a step away, but the doctor holds him in place with his hand now gripping the back of John's neck.

Dr. Berry says, "Well, my doppelganger here has a date with someone in the cafeteria for lunch, so I'll get him going in the right direction."

Both Bruce and Debra say, "Good luck with your memory, John." John nods and mumbles, "Thanks," and then moves with Dr. Berry, making sure his arm doesn't go around the doctor again.

Walking out the door on the other side of the lounge, the doctor points to the end of the corridor and says, "There are the elevators, John. The cafeteria is down one level. Go to the right when you get off the elevator, and follow the signs."

Stifling a grunt at how hard his dick is, John says, "Thank you for your help."

Moving his arm across John's shoulders, Dr. Berry's fingers squeeze the back of John's neck again, "You're welcome, John, but I can't help wondering if we may have more in common than just our appearance. We probably should find out about that."

John somehow knows the doctor is referring to a mutual sexual attraction but doesn't know the right way to respond, so he plays dumb, asking, "Whaddaya mean?"

Nodding, Dr. Berry says, "Oh, okay, we can play it like that if you want. Um, the other thing is, I do hypnotisms to help people, ironically, help them to quit smoking, haha. Also, help them stick to their diets, their exercise program, and things of that nature. Hypnosis doesn't usually work well as a memory recovery method, but that doesn't mean it never works. Sometimes it helps, and it can't hurt, so would you like to try it? I'd hypnotize you, leading you into a trance-like state in hopes of recovering some of your memory?"

John realizes he is again leaning into Dr. Berry's body. He feels dreamy, and it's almost as if he's hypnotized from listening to the doctor's soothing, confident voice. It has him relaxing even more, looking into the doctor's big dark blue eyes, liking how it feels to be with him. It feels wonderful not to be alone and to have this young doctor interested in him. It's obvious Dr. Berry likes him, and it would be cool to have a doctor as a friend.

John murmurs, "Um, try hypnotism? Oh, sure, I'll do whatever you think is best, Dr. Berry."

"Please, call me Ryan. We're almost the same age, and, who knows, we actually may turn out to be related in some distant way or other." He grins at John, his fingers going into John's long hair at the back of his head. In a very friendly manner, he says, "We also both need to get to a barbershop, bro. Heh-heh, don't you think?"

John makes a quiet gasping sound and, leaning against the doctor again, murmurs, "Yeah, I tried earlier, um, at the hotel barbershop. I'm, ah, you're so nice, doctor, er, I mean, Ryan. Thanks for helping me. I'd really like to try that hypnosis thing with you and, you know, whatever else you, um, think we should do. Um, to help me recover my memory."

Ryan says, "It'll be my pleasure, John," and he slowly puts his other arm around John and gently hugs him, chest to chest, murmuring, "You're shaking, John. Are you okay?"

John was shaking as his arms went around the doctor, and he hugged back, mumbling, "Am I okay? Um, no, not all the time, but right now, I'm doing okay. I'm glad I met you. I want to do what you say, Ryan."

His subconscious was thinking about how much he wanted to be submissive to Ryan. His dick was an iron pole poking Dr. Berry's crotch.

The sides of their heads touching, Dr. Berry murmurs, "Okay, we'll experiment a little, but I promise to proceed very, very slowly, John. I wouldn't do anything to hamper your recovery."

John sighs and nods his head slightly, acknowledging the doctor's words. Dr. Berry is feeling John's boner, so he gently takes his arms away and glances down at John's sweatpants' bulge, murmuring, "That's okay, don't be embarrassed.

"I'm not embarrassed. I feel safe with you, doctor."

Ryan grins and musses John's hair, "Thanks. Jeez, you're awesome, John. Let me have your cell phone."

With feelings of dreamy hero worship for the doctor, John gives him his phone, and Dr. Berry punches the phone number into his cell phone and puts his number in John's phone. Handing the phone back to John, he asks, "I don't suppose you remember if you've had much experience being with another guy."

John would like to play dumb again and ask what he means by that, except he knows what he means. He's honest with the doctor, "As far as I can remember, I've no experience with anybody doing anything. It's weird, but after saying that, I still sense somehow that I may have been with another guy. Maybe, um..." John almost confesses his involvement with Andy but doesn't want to complicate this budding relationship with the doctor. He feels safe with both Andy and Ryan.

Dr. Ryan Berry looks both ways and sees no one in the corridor, "No problem either way, John," and then he gently hugs him, a hand on the back of John's head, his cheek against John's cheek, murmuring, "If you'd like, in the next day or two we'll start doing the hypnotism, and depending on how that develops, we'll experiment with intimacy. Don't be afraid... we'll never do anything you don't want to do."

John becomes extremely emotional thinking about doing what the doctor said, and he drops his forehead onto the doctor's shoulder, his arms still around the doctor, tears forming in his eyes, "I'm not afraid, Dr. Berry."

"Shh, call me Ryan, please," and he runs his fingers in the hair at the back of John's head again. "It's going to be fine. It'll be all right, John," and John, feeling very young, openly cries, sobbing without knowing why. The doctor murmurs, "You've been through a lot, and it's perfectly natural that you're emotional and confused. I'll help you through it all. Whatever you need."

Ryan hugs John until he hears John sniffling, done crying. Ryan quietly tells John, "The doctor's lavatory is that door next to us. I'll go in with you so you can wash your face before having lunch with, um, whoever you're having lunch with."

John steps back, rubbing tears off his face, mumbling, "I'm so fucking embarrassed and so sorry for the way I'm acting. It's, um, I don't know what it is. You're so nice; I'm so glad we met, and..."

Dr. Ryan goes, "Me too. C'mon, we'll go into the bathroom."

In the lavatory, they both take a piss standing at side-by-side urinals, conscious about not looking at the other's dick, then wash up at side-by-side sinks as Ryan asks, "So, who are you meeting for lunch?"

Drying his hands and face with paper towels, John says, "I'm meeting the only friend in the world I'm aware of, Andy Salsbury. He's the nurse's assistant who, among other things, gives sponge baths. He's been incredibly kind to me, and now you have been as well, and I'm grateful. Maybe you'll be my second friend."

"Sure, I'm proud to be your friend. Coincidentally, I think I met Andy the first week I was here. He's kind of a cute blond-headed kid, right? Ah, cute in an unusual way, and he has a very pronounced lisp. Am I thinking of the same guy?"

"Yes, that's Andy, and he's like us, Dr. Berry."

The doctor's eyebrows go up as he mutters, "Like us?"

John quickly adds, "Um, I mean, like us in that he looks younger than his age. He's not a kid, though; he's twenty-two today. As a matter of fact, we're going to have dinner together tonight to celebrate his birthday."

When the doctor met Andy, it was immediately obvious to him that Andy was as gay as May. The doctor mistakenly thought Andy was much younger and, therefore, too young for gay sex play. Learning that Andy is twenty-two, though, that's an entirely different matter. It also occurs to the doctor that Andy is likely licking his lips, anticipating getting John into bed.

During his time at the University of Massachusetts Medical School, Dr. Ryan Berry had a couple of steady fuck buddies. Still, neither is special enough for Ryan to put up with the horrific Boston traffic going back and forth, hooking up with them. Dr. Berry had no hookups at this facility, and it's been three weeks since his last pick-up at a gay bar, so he's horny. Horny or not, the doctor's sincere interest in John Darling is to help him with his recovery first and foremost. Intimacy between them can come a little later. He is determined not to get into a competition with Andy to see who gets John in bed first.

Out of the bathroom, Ryan smiles at John and, in a really friendly manner, says, "Enjoy your lunch and dinner with your best friend in the world. If you feel like it, give me a call or text me tomorrow, and we'll try hypnosis before trying anything else. It's up to you, John."

"Oh, I'm definitely texting you tomorrow, Doctor, and, ah, maybe you can come to my hotel suite, um, if you want to..."

John's face feels hot because he knows he's saying everything wrong. That 'come to my room' plea sounded desperate and was so stupid! Gawd!

Smiling, "Haha, that's nice of you, John. I don't mean to laugh... um, but it's probably best if we meet here at the hospital."

Still flustered at having asked the doctor to his hotel room, John nods, not trusting his voice.

Smiling, Dr. Berry gently touches John's arm, asking, "You okay?" and John says, "Uh-huh, I'm okay."

Feeling his eyes stinging again, John leans against the doctor. Ryan murmured, "It'll get better, John. Be patient; I'm going to take care of you, but we'll go slowly. My advice is you should go slowly with Andy, too."

John's face gets hot again... how did the doctor know? Then, he realized everybody knows Andy's gay. He nods and steps back, "I'll try, doctor, er, Ryan. Thank you for helping me." Then, forcing a grin, he adds, "I swear to God I'm going to stop being a crying dork pretty soon. I'm trying to get better, Dr. Berry, um, Ryan..."

"You're doing fine. Don't be too hard on yourself. Recovering from a brain trauma coma isn't a walk in the park. Enjoy your lunch."

They both do a little hand wave while smiling and taking a step backward. Turning around, and as they're walking in opposite directions, the doctor is replaying their time together in his head, hoping he didn't do or say anything too far out of line, deciding that he had, but nothing too, too unethical... yet.

As for John, he was confused by his immature behavior and his tears but felt really good about the prospect of doing whatever the doctor wanted to do. With a sigh of relief, his boner drifted into a flaccid penis condition again.

Walking into the noisy Campbell's chicken-soup-smelling cafeteria, he sees Andy standing near the door on the other side of the room, looking around. John waves his hand, and Andy sees him. They smile at one another, coming together.

John's feeling a weird tension in his balls watching Andy's swishy, obviously-gay body language. It's going to be hard following Ryan's advice to take it slow with Andy. He doesn't fully understand why, but he's super sexually attracted to Andy. Seeing him, John had trouble catching his breath.

Coming together, Andy pats John's back, quietly saying, "No hugging in here, Darling. Grab a tray and get in the lunch line."

Oh, that sounded like an order, and it made John quietly gasp, then quickly do what he was told. He'd love to squeeze his dick but doesn't dare. Andy quietly mumbles, "I'm not trying to pass for straight by not hugging. I just don't want nurses to think I'd do anything inappropriate with a patient. Some of them don't like me because I'm too demonstrably gay."

That was the first time either of them directly mentioned anything about gayness. John says, "That's so unfair of them, Andy. Um, I think I'm gay too."

Andy mutters, "Yeah, I'm pretty sure you are, but you're doing a good job passing as straight," and he takes a prewrapped ham and cheese sandwich off the sandwich shelf and puts it on his tray, adding, "There's nothing wrong with being a straight-acting gay guy, Johnny."

Andy saying the word gay again makes John's dick tighten up.

Like Andy, John puts a ham and cheese sandwich on his tray, wondering if he should mention Dr. Berry to Andy. When Andy grabs potato chips, so does John. Then, a can of Coke and a slice of chocolate cake for both. Andy smirked at John, "You picked up everything I did."

"Yeah, I know. I look up to you, Andy. Um, my attorney, Sara, is like my big sister, and you're getting to be like my big brother helping me get back into life," and he feels himself getting emotional again. Holding his breath, he wills himself not to cry. Then adds, "I hope I can be, um, as gay as you."

He's puzzled by his incredibly strong attraction to Andy. What John can't recall, has no memory of, is gay Brian O'Neil, his roommate for his sophomore and junior years. Brian has blond hair like Andy's, and both are about the same size. The similarities were a factor in John's almost immediate devotion to Andy. John doesn't remember Brian nagging and badgering him all sophomore year until finally; he convinced John to blow him early in the first semester of their junior year.

After the first time, Brian soon had John blowing him regularly. Brian eventually dominated John so completely he was fucking him whenever he felt like it, doing it as a dominant top to John's submissive bottom, who often first got spanked, then fucked hard. They both loved it, but now John hasn't even a whiff of that memory.

By the end of junior year, John adored and treated Brian as his hero. He loved being submissive to him. Brian could have taken much more advantage of John, but he didn't. He was content to wait until their senior year to deepen his control, but he's in for a surprise when he learns that John hasn't enrolled for senior year at Duke. When he finds that out, he'll call John's cell phone, but that phone isn't with John Darling.

Andy puts his finger to his lips, like, 'Shh,' and quietly says, "People can hear you. If you want, sure, I'll be your big brother, but I'm hoping to be more than that to you." Smiling, he whispers, "And I'm beyond thrilled that you want to be just like me."

A warm, sexy feeling flows over John, confusing him because he doesn't realize that his brain is connecting the potential of Andy being just like Brian. That was a totally subconscious connection as John whispered, "Do you think we should do something tonight, Andy? I'll do whatever you tell me to do."

"Shh!" and they pay at the register, then sit at a table for two. "Darling, um, Johnny, I didn't mean to shush you so energetically back there. It's just that you took me by surprise by saying that last part. What is the something you had in mind for us to do?"

Unwrapping his sandwich, John shrugs and goes, "Um, well, there are only two things gay guys can do, right? Fucking or sucking. If you tell me which one to do and how to do it, I'm anxious to please you."

Andy goes, "Please me? You don't need to please me, and there are more than two things gay guys can do."

John says, "Would you teach me? Maybe I did stuff with gay guys at Duke that I don't remember. Even if I didn't do anything, I might have thought I was gay, but as they say, I was maybe in the closet. I think that's a real possibility because of how easily I wanted to be gay with you. I think you're wonderful, and yes, I want to be just like you."

Andy's expression is like... what? Then, John hangs a limp wrist and imitates Andy's lisping, whispering, "So, there it is... that's the reason I thought I might have been gay before the accident. You're my idol, Andy, and I'm ready to do what I'm told."

Finishing his sandwich, Andy chuckles, "Jesus, do what you're told... what does that even mean? Good Lord, this is unbelievable." Looking around, he lowers his voice further, "Heh-heh. But I love it when you try imitating me, and Omigod! you're so pretty."

John grins because, being with Andy, he's not alone in the world anymore. Something is still missing, but he has no idea what it is. He doesn't realize he wants Andy to be Brain and act more dominant. Dominance is missing from Andy. John doesn't remember his fantastic little dynamo roommate, Brian O'Neil, who was totally dominant. No, he can't remember, but his subconscious has an inkling about it.

Andy says, "Darling, I don't think you realize how special you are. You've got to be in the top five percent of best-looking guys in the world, and the fact you want to have, um, gay sex with me is blowing my mind."

John, feeling self-conscious about the best-looking-in-the-world compliment, sidesteps it, muttering, "Oh, fuck, I wolfed that sandwich down already. Um, anyway, yeah, I definitely like the idea of being gay with you. It's another one of those unexplained kinds of scary things that makes me feel my life is out of my control. Heh-heh, in a good way, though, ya know?"

"Um, what? Never mind, yeah, I guess I know what you mean. I'll try to help you with everything, Darling, but you need to be one hundred percent in agreement about whatever we do. Don't do it unless you really want to. I believe you were gay before the accident because that's the only thing that makes any sense. I mean, a person doesn't turn gay because they are hit on the head and spent a month in a coma."

Gulping down cold soda, John mutters, "You're right. I was attracted to you even though you're, um, well, uniquely, um, obviously gay. I mean, how many guys are like you? No offense intended."

"There are a lot of guys like me who are demonstratively homosexual and proud of it."

"Oh, of course. I'm sorry, Andy. I didn't mean anything, um, like a criticism."

"You don't need to say you're sorry every two minutes."

Ignoring that, John opens his bag of potato chips and then, lisping, he says, "Um, after our dinner tonight, it would be fabulous if you'd come back to my room and do, um, something extremely intimate with me."

Oh, God, first he invited the doctor, and now Andy.

Andy choked, swallowed Coke, wiped his mouth with a paper napkin, and said, "Good God, Darling! It's so tempting, but I'm very concerned about taking advantage of your lonely situation. I don't want to be 'that guy', ya know?"

John mutters, "No, I don't know. Anyway, please come to my room after dinner..."

Andy goes, "Okay, but for the record, I don't think it's a good idea. It's too soon, but, um, I hope I can control myself. You're so, um, delightfully desirable. Ah, maybe a little oral sex would be okay. Would that be okay for now, Johnny?"

John's subconscious mind is yearning for his dominant little roommate to take charge, but Andy's not like that.

"Can't we do both things, Andy? I'll try blowing your dick and, ah, I trust you to make the right decision, but do you think after I blow you, I'll like getting," he looks around, then finishes his sentence whispering, "Like getting fucked up the ass? It seems like that might hurt."

Andy can't help but smile, "You are totally surprising the hell out of me, Darling. Before the accident, you must have, at the very least, watched a ton of gay porn videos. And truthfully, I'm beginning to believe you were actively gay. That, or you wanted to be very active, but it didn't work out. If that's so, it takes the pressure off me. I'd relax if I could stop worrying about taking advantage of you."

Shrugging, John goes, "Ya know, maybe I was active! Either way, you're not taking advantage of me. Actually, I think I wish you would take a little advantage of me! Haha. Seriously, all I know is I want to be with you and do what you tell me."

Squirming in his seat, Andy mutters, "God almighty, I've got a hard boner that won't quit, but I'm feeling the pressure to do the right thing for you. You're depending on me, and I want to do the right thing. Do you see what I mean?"

John mumbles, "No, I don't. I mean, you're not taking advantage of me. I'm asking you to do gay sex with me."

Andy gropes himself under the table, saying, "Um, you might be disappointed when we're both naked. Although that might give us some insight into your sexual activities before the accident... you know, we'll see how comfortable you are being naked with me when I'm holding your dick."

Excited, John goes, "I'll be comfortable, and how about you doing anal sex on my ass. Will it hurt?"

"Yeah, it hurts some guys so much they can't do the bottom part. As for me, I love taking a big dick up there." Sort of rolling his eyes, he adds, "Unfortunately, I don't get the opportunity to experience that extreme pleasure very often."

Frowning, John mutters, "Um, I'm getting the sneaking suspicion that you'd rather not have gay sex with me." Quickly adding, "And that's okay; you'll still be my best friend, but I'll know to stop nagging you if that's the case."

A smallish blond-headed boy nagging someone about something flashes past John's brain, fading away instantly. What was that?

Andy goes, "What? Do you actually think I don't want to have sex with you? Omigod, nothing could be further from the truth! I don't know anyone I'd rather have sex with than you, but I need to be responsible about it. You're very vulnerable."

"Well, I can't make you want to do it with me, so I'll abide by whatever you say. And, um, just so you know, for maybe future reference, um." He clears his throat, "Um, you said you liked taking a big dick in your, ah, in your ass. If it ever comes down to that, I'm sorry, but I don't have a big dick."

Giving John a blank 'DUH' expression, Andy says, "John, I washed your dick a dozen times. I'm quite familiar with your penis, and it's a very good size for putting up someone's ass."

"Oh, fuck, yeah... Haha, shit, I forgot about you bathing me in my coma. Oh, I wanted to ask you something. Do you remember meeting a young-looking, handsome doctor named Ryan Berry? He said he met you, and he thought you were cute! I think you are, too! And Omigod, you won't believe how much he and I look alike. It's freaky."

Frowning, not liking the sound of this at all. Andy goes, "Dr. Berry? No, I don't recall meeting him, and I think I'd remember if he looked like you."

Thinking about how humble Andy is and how, as a nurse assistant, he took care of him, John gets emotional again and feels the crying sensation overwhelming him. Getting overly emotional like this just comes to him out of nowhere. Holding his breath, getting his emotions under control, two tears rolling down his face as he says, "Seriously, Andy, you're so wonderful I can't believe you don't have ten boyfriends fighting over you. It's me who isn't good enough for you. And what would I have done without you? I love you."

"That's so nice of you, Johnny. I love you too, bro. We can be in a bromance if you'd like."

John has been eating his lunch steadily, and now he swallows the last bite of cake, saying, "I know I'm acting dorky and out of control, but I can't help it. I'll get better with your help. Um, do you think you could move in with me permanently? That would help me tremendously, and we could do everything you wanted to do with me."

Andy's stunned at how much John depends on him and how much he likes him, but he remains cautious, saying, "We don't want to get ahead of ourselves. How about if I just stay one night this weekend and, if it goes okay, maybe a night next weekend too? Like that."

Nodding, John mumbles, "I wish it would be more, but whatever you say. Um, another thing I want to tell you. Ah, this sounds goofy, but since I'm airing out my emotions and all my feelings to you... here it is. I get wicked strong urges to kiss you on the mouth. I know I know that that's crazy! I'm not sure gay guys do much kissing or do it at all."

His roommate Brian had a thing about making out. He wouldn't do it, saying that only faggots made out. John desperately wanted to do it with Brian, and Brian's bossy refusal somehow got John to further respect and idolize him because he was so confident and positive about everything. Brian always knew what was the right thing to say or do. John Darling didn't think he knew what was right about almost anything.

Andy laughs, "Oh, Jesus Christ, making out? You're too good to be real, except now I'm starting to wonder if you're joking around, making fun of me. You're not pulling my wee-wee, are you? It's easy to yank my chain 'cause I'm pretty gullible, but I'm hoping you're serious about all this. You are being serious, right?"

John mutters, "Serious as cardiovascular infarction."

"What? How do you know that term?"

John shrugs, "Um, oh fuck, I have no idea. I don't have any idea what it even means or what made me say that. I probably heard a doctor say it, and it stuck in my head. Not knowing and not remembering anything is so fucking frustrating!"

Andy reaches across the table and pats the back of John's hand, "Shh, calm down. We'll work out something for tonight, Darling."

He finished his cake, drained the Coke can, and then said, "Try not to worry so much about everything. You'll recover your memory, and I'm sure everything you remember will be good. C'mon, let's dump our trash, then see if anyone is in the basement storeroom."

"Okay, what are we gonna do there?"

After dumping the paper plates and plastic wrap, then dropping the can in a bin, they stack their trays. Andy nods his head at the same door John came in twenty minutes ago, "Follow me this way. If no one is in the storeroom, we can quickly try what you said you wanted to do... kissing, making out."

John excitedly goes, "Really? Oh God, now I'm nervous."

"No reason to be nervous. We'll see if you like it. Then I need to get back to work."

They walk to the elevators; Andy pushes the button for sub-level 2, then John hugs him, murmuring, "I'm excited about doing one of the strong urges I'm having for you, Andy. You've been so good to me about everything," and he shocks both of them by licking across Andy's lips.

The elevator plops down, and the doors open as Andy pushes John away, hissing, "Somebody could have been on that elevator and saw you do that. I need this job, so stop it!"

That was like a slap in John's face, but the dominant reaction to his lick gave John a stiffy. He stepped back, "I'm sorry!" Then licked his lips, grinned, and said, "I liked licking your lips, though."

Andy couldn't help grinning and chuckling, "You did, huh?"

They step into an empty elevator car as John gropes his crotch, his dick firm and getting firmer. Holding onto his dick, he starts babbling, "I like your ponytail, Andy, and your shade of blond hair. My hair is too light, don't you think? Oh, and I like the way you move and the way you talk. I like everything about you, and I want to be just like you. I'm going to let my hair grow until I can have a ponytail like yours. You're my idol, and I'm going to be your twin brother. No, not brother, your twin boyfriend."

Andy shakes his head and starts to say something, but John covers his mouth with his hand and then kisses him twice on the cheek.

Yes, two kisses, but never having learned to kiss sexily with anyone, John's kisses were like the ones he gave his mother when he was much younger and going off to summer camp. Not that he remembers that.

"Thank you, John. That was very, um, innocently sweet, but it would be better if you didn't instantly act out every inclination you have. Ah, I'm worried somebody might see us, and I could get in trouble."

"Okay, Andy. Sorry..."

Andy can't follow his own advice, though, and as the elevator slowly moves down, he grabs John and kisses him the way gay sex partners kiss, his tongue ending up on John's tongue with John moaning and blowing a wet discharge of precum in his pants.

"Ooh, ooh, Andy, I think I just blew a load in my pants. It felt so good, though," and he clings to Andy. John presses the side of his face against Andy's, murmuring, "This feels so wonderful. Being with you is magical. I never knew feelings like this existed," and he gives Andy's face five quick kisses. The five kisses are similar to ones a guy might jokingly give his little sister.

Trying not to laugh, Andy smiles at that and mumbles, "You are so fucking sweet," then, as the elevator doors open at sub-level 2, seeing no one there, Andy holds John's head between his hands and does a sexy, sloppy, tongue-invested, twenty-second sexy kiss. John's leaning over, his arms around Andy's neck. As the kiss is ending, John moans into Andy's mouth, "Ah, ahh, ahhh!" and, humping his hips one time, climaxes into his underpants, still holding onto Andy.

John moans, "Ah, oh, fuck. Umm, that felt so good, but this time, it was definitely a climax that felt way better than the ones I have when I jerk off."

The sexy kissing is new to John because Brian forbade kissing, so kissing Andy brought back no memories. When he does oral and anal sex, though, that won't be new because he's blown Brian a hundred times and taken Brian's fat cock up his ass twenty-some times. If Andy agrees to have serious sex with John, basically taking Brian's place, that might jar John's memory into recovery mode.

For now, John won't let go of Andy. Not until Andy gently pulls John's arms from around his neck, murmuring, "I remember how thrilling my first extra sexy kiss was, Johnny. I hope yours was as good."

Leaning against the wall next to the closing elevator doors, John gasps, "I feel weak, Andy, and I've got wet underpants. Yep, kissing you was spectacularly and unbelievably sexy."

He touches Andy's oddly cute face, murmuring, "It was unexpectedly better than I dreamed it would be." He gets his arms around Andy again, hugging him, his eyes running with tears, wetting the side of Andy's face, John mumbling, "I'm sorry for losing it again, Andy."

Talking soothingly, "Shh, it'll be fine, Darling. Here, let me wipe your tears," and he wipes away tears with the pads of his fingers, keeping his other arm around John. Then, both arms around John, hoping to calm him down enough that he could get to work, Andy murmurs, "If you can calm down right now, I promise to spend tonight sleeping with you."

John nods his head real fast and says, "Thanks; I'll calm down! I know you need to get to your job. I'm humiliated about cuming in my pants but thrilled with our making out."

Letting go of each other, they go to Andy's locker, and Andy gives John a pair of his clean underpants, saying, "I keep a few pairs here for emergencies." John grins, assuming Andy's kidding about that, so he doesn't ask what kind of emergency requires clean underpants.

In the locker room, John changes his underpants, grinning and mumbling, "I'll have a permanent boner as long as I'm wearing your underpants, Andy." Then, "Oh, yeah, this feels better. Thanks." John again squeezes his arms around Andy, murmuring, "Ya know, I tell myself I'm fine, and then I act like a cunt and start crying again. I'm trying to stop doing that."

Taking a deep breath, he lets go of Andy and stands back, mumbling, "I know you want to get back to work. I just want you to know that I'm going to start acting like a normal, almost twenty-two-year-old, um, soon."

They're walking out of the locker room onto the empty corridor as Andy asks, "Oh, is your birthday coming up too?"

Finally, relaxing a little, John smiles, muttering, "According to my Wyoming driver's license, it's six weeks from now. Too bad we couldn't celebrate both our birthdays tonight. Anyway, I'm sorry for my crying jags, but I promise I'm going to get better. Please stick with me."

Andy says, "As I said, you need to stop apologizing every two minutes, and, of course, I'm sticking with you. Don't be silly! You're doing good." Then he goes, "After work, I'll get all dressed up for our dinner out, grab some stuff I'll need if I'm spending the night with you, and be at your suite before seven. Okay?"

John nods, "Yeah, great! Thank you so much for helping me."

Swallowing noisily, touched by John's sincerity, Andy smiles and says, "You're welcome, Darling." He grins and adds, "It's handy that your last name is a term of endearment. See you tonight."

John watches Andy jog away and feels tears starting again. It takes only a moment to get himself under control, then he turns and heads to the closest hospital exit.

Walking back to the hotel, John takes some deep breaths and starts feeling steadier. It occurs to him that he only gets overly emotional when he's sexually stimulated, and that only happens with Andy and, to a much lesser degree, earlier with Dr. Berry.

John is unaware of how significant the similarities between Brian and Andy are and how much that has to do with his almost out-of-control infatuation and adoration for Andy.

There is another flash of Brian's image zipping past John's consciousness. It's only a blink from his past, so short and quick it didn't resonate as anything real. Is he thinking of the real person, Brian O'Neal, or the picture of him that Attorney Sara McCarty showed him a couple of weeks ago? Confused, John stopped in his tracks, frowning, which caused a woman a few steps behind to walk into him.

The woman and John both apologize half-heartedly. As the woman walks past John, they both think it is the other's fault. Lighting a cigarette, he realizes again how routine it feels to light a cigarette. The taste wasn't so bad this time, so John said aloud, "It didn't take long to get back into my smoking habit." Then he thought to himself. 'This smoking thing is definitely a recalled memory. I'll be sure to tell Dr. Berry about it.'

How ironic is it that a nasty habit like smoking cigarettes would be his first firmly recalled memory?

He's back in his suite at one-thirty with nothing to do, so he tries doing brain exercises, then tries meditating but almost immediately falls asleep on the sofa. He had an uneven night's sleep, so he doesn't wake from his nap until almost five o'clock.

Feeling good now, John took his time shaving and showering. Naked in the bathroom, he studied himself in the full-length mirror, wondering what Andy would think of his smooth body. That's if they got naked tonight.

Overall, John's pleased with his body. He's slim but not skinny. Definitely not a bodybuilder's body, but there is some muscle definition here and there. He makes a face at his reflection, shrugs, and says out loud, "I look kind of hot." Then snickering, he adds, "My hair looks like shit, though."

Padding into the bedroom, he shakes his head because there's no way he's going to grow his hair until it is long enough for a ponytail. It was stupid of him to tell Andy that's what he was going to do. He was just babbling whatever he could think of that might make Andy like him more. Out loud, he says, "I don't like and have never had long hair!"

What? Out loud again, he asks rhetorically, "How do I know that?"

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he mumbles, "Another recovered memory," and he lies back on the bed, trying to remember something else while his hand plays lazily with his nice-looking five-inch penis. When he stroked his dick into a boner, a flash of his roommate, Brian, skids passed his brain again, but again it passed so fast he wasn't sure if it was a memory of a person or an inanimate object, like a photo of a person.

Frowning, he concentrates as hard as he can, then moans, realizing he's jerking off, "Oh, oh, ah, ahh!" His body gets stiff, his back arching, and, "Ahh," he blows his second load of the day. It goes straight up a foot or two, then drops right down on him, splat.

"Omigod, umm, ooh, man!" he mutters. Then, "Whew, that felt good, but fuck... messy."

Getting up, John washes up in the bathroom as something is niggling at the back of his mind that he can't quite make sense of, although he desperately wants to.

Back in the bedroom, he looks through his clothes and says out loud, "Goddamnit! These clothes are crap. I should have bought new clothes this afternoon for tonight's dinner with Andy."

His clothing concern overrode the annoying niggling thing at the back of his mind that was John's very vague memory of how much he liked someone telling him what to do... liked being bossed around the way Brian did it.

Calling it a vague memory is even overstating what it was. Something that made John wrinkle his nose and ask... what is it? Then feel his dick squirm in his pants.

He mutters, "Huh," and looks at the time on his cell phone. It's now ten of six. He tells himself aloud, "You've got time!" Quickly putting on cargo shorts, a T-shirt, and sneakers without socks, he gets his wallet and room key and takes the elevator to the lobby level, where he knows there's a men's and women's shop selling absurdly overpriced casual clothes.

John squints, looking into the Upscale Casual Outfits for Men and Women shop, and sees that no one is shopping. Inside, he's immediately accosted by a salesman, "How are you today, young man? Beautiful weather we're having. What can I help you with?"

"Oh, um, I'm not sure. I'll look around if you don't mind."

The salesman is a pale, small, lean, jittery fellow about forty years old with spiky hair and a sharp hook nose. He says, "Normally, that would be fine and dandy, except we close at six o'clock, um, four minutes from now, so..."

John says, "I need something casual to wear to dinner tonight. We're eating here, in the hotel restaurant."

"Okay," and the man, whose name tag reads "Sam," picks out a pair of light tan tapered chino pants and says, "How about these?"

John shrugs, and Sam says, "Good! Now we'll look at some shirts."

The khaki pants or chinos, if you prefer, cost $138. Walking to a rack of shirts, Sam asks, "Are you a movie star or something? You're so good-looking I'm trying to remember if I've seen you on TV or at the movies."

"No, I'm nobody," and pointing, John adds, "I like that shirt."

Sam takes a Brannen striped long-sleeved Polo shirt off a shelf, "Good choice. Are you sure you're nobody? I'm almost positive I've seen you in something." The shirt cost $129. John doesn't remember if that's a reasonable price for a shirt, but he doesn't care.

"No, you haven't seen me on TV." Then he wonders if maybe, because of the accident and coma, he made the local news, and his picture was shown. He mutters, "Or maybe you have. Ah, this shirt and pair of pants are good. Now I need something for my feet."

There aren't a lot of choices in his size, so John settles on a pair of white Nike Air Max 90 sneakers for $130.

Sam says, "Do you need to try the pants on?"

John shakes his head that he doesn't because the label indicates a 32" waist and 34" length, which are almost perfect. Paying for everything with his debit card, John is back in his two-room suite ten minutes after leaving it. He takes off about a hundred tags, then gets dressed in his new duds and looks at himself in the full-length mirror. Smiling, he nods and says out loud, "Sam was right; you are a good-looking motherfucker! Looking good, Darling..."

He's forty-five minutes ahead of schedule. Dressed up in new clothes, he goes outside to smoke a cigarette. Lighting a Marlboro, he sees the androgynous guy he talked with six hours ago, whose name John can't remember. The guy is talking with a girl smoking a cigarette who also looks a little androgynous. Well, she looks a little like the guy, so it's his sister, who the guy said was getting married tomorrow, Saturday.

Not wanting to talk with them, John turned to walk down the block but heard, "Hey, John, wait up!"

"Oh, fuck!" John stops, and the guy says, "You're all dressed up. Do you have time to have that beer I promised you?"

Looking at the guy, John frowns, unable to come up with anything to say. The guy mistakenly thinks John's forgotten they've met and says, "I'm Peter Tollar. Remember, we met this morning?"

Feeling goofy, John smiles, nods his head, and imitates Andy's lisping, "Yes, Peter, of course, I remember you, but you look different."

Peter grins at John's lisping and says, "I cut my hair short, so I'll look pretty in my sister's wedding pics tomorrow. How about that beer?"

Oh, yeah, that's right, this morning he had long, straight black hair covering his ears and his shirt collar. Now it's a regular man's short haircut. Eliminating the lisping, John mutters, "Are you a barber, Peter? That's a good haircut you gave yourself."

"No, I'm an electrician from Brooklyn, New York. My sister is getting married to a guy from Dorchester, Massachusetts, so we're here..."

John nods, exhales a stream of cigarette smoke, and lisps again, grinning at himself for doing it, "Yeah, Dorchester, huh? Well, good luck, but I'm meeting someone for dinner in a half hour or so."

Peter makes a funny face, asking, "How do you decide when you'll lisp and when you won't? That's a funny bit. Or have you already been drinking?"

John shrugs, "No, I haven't had anything to drink. I'm practicing being gay, is all."

Nodding, Peter chuckles, then says, "Well, it's cute, it really is, and you look really good, all dressed up. Um, I need to be at a family get-together here in the hotel at seven-thirty, but we both have time for a beer. C'mon, give me a break. I'd like the opportunity to look at your attractiveness for twenty minutes."

He puts his arm across John's shoulders, "I insist, John. C'mon."

The authority-sounding voice Peter used gets John to walk, mumbling, "Ah, um, okay," as he subtly brushes at his crotch to get his firming-up dick to the side. The last thing he wants is another boner poking out the front of his pants.

Going inside the hotel, Peter says, "The closest bar is right through that door to the right of the concierge."

They walk into the noisy bar and find two seats together. Sitting, Peter's arm dragged off John's shoulder, his fingers going through John's hair. He says, "I'll be here through Sunday, so I can give you a haircut like mine, and then you maybe could do me a favor. Um, you're gay, right?"

A tall, very thin black bartender with long dreadlocks and a deep voice asks for John's ID, then says, "What can I get you, boys?"

Peter says, "Give us a couple of drafts," then looks back at John, repeating, "You're gay, right? I mean, I thought you were before the fake lisping you did and your comical reason for doing it. That nailed it down for me. I'll give you a good free haircut, and maybe you'll suck me off. Whaddaya say?"

John's heart begins pounding, and he's not sure why. Peter isn't good-looking, although he looks nicer than he did with the long hair. John doesn't know it, but it was how Peter took charge and sort of forced John to have a beer that had his full attention. That reminded John of Brian, except he didn't know that. He just knew he got a sexy, gooey feeling in his groin doing what Peter told him to do.

Moving his head close to John's and making a funny face, Peter says, "Well? You are gay, right?"

Feeling as if he's in a dreamy sort of trance, similar to the way Dr. Berry made him feel, John mumbles, "Whatever makes you say that?"

Both Peter and the bartender, overhearing their conversation, laughed at that as the bartender was putting drafts on cardboard coasters. He puts a check between them and asks two women a few seats down from John and Peter, "What can I get you ladies?" He has a booming, deep voice that just doesn't go with a tall, skinny black guy with dreadlocks.

Peter picks up his beer and motions for John to pick up his glass, then taps John's glass with his glass and swallows some beer. "Ahh, that hits the spot."

John tentatively sips some beer, and his eyebrows go up as he mutters, "Hey, this tastes okay."

Peter looks at the tap, "It's Coors draft beer. You've never had Coors beer before?"

"I don't know if I've had Coors beer before or not. As far as I know, this is the first time I've ever heard of Coors beer, and yes, my best guess is I'm gay. I have amnesia and can't remember anything, not even my name. I was in an auto accident almost three months ago, then a month-long coma, so that's why I'm acting weird."

"What? Seriously! Hey, are you bull-shitting me?"

John chugs half his beer, then burps, chuckles at that, then cheerfully says, "No, I'm not bull-shitting you, Peter, and no, I don't want you cutting my hair, and no, I'm not sucking you off."

Peter laughs again, "Oh, fuck, I was mostly kidding about all that. Actually, I'm straight, but I figured why not get blown in Boston by the best-looking gay motherfucker I've ever seen in my life?"

John finishes his beer and holds the glass up to get the bartender's attention, saying, "Finish your beer, Peter. This one is on me."

He takes his time with the second beer. Peter swallowed some beer, then asked, "Well, how 'bout if I paid you, would you suck me off then? It would be kind of an adventure for me." Then he mutters, "First, though," and he takes his phone out and clicks off four quick pictures of John.

Making a face, John shakes his head, "Don't do that, alright? Um, how much are you willing to pay me to blow you? I might do it if it's enough."

Peter goes, "Wow! Great! Um, how about twenty bucks?"

John laughs, "No, that's not enough! Haha, twenty bucks. That's very funny."

"Well, fuck, I'm an electrician, John. I don't have a lot of money. How much do you want?"

They're having this bogus conversation, talking low, their heads close together, both leaning over a little. John's just having a little fun. Then he looks at his phone and sees it's ten of seven; he goes, "Whoa! I've got to go, Peter."

Reaching for his wallet, John smiles and says, "Seriously, I'm almost positive I'm gay, and I might blow you just for the hell of it, except I don't remember how to do it." He drops a fifty-dollar bill on the check, saying, "I'm not an electrician. I have a lot of money. Thanks for suggesting we have a beer together."

Peter is shocked as he gets up, mumbling, "Thanks for the beers, John. Jesus, though, that's an awfully large tip."

Outside the bar, Peter says, "I never know when you're serious or bull-shitting." He hustles to keep up with John, saying, "Can we get together later tonight?"

John pushes the elevator button for his floor, saying, "No, my only friend in the world is having dinner with me and then spending the night and, hopefully, doing gay stuff with me. I'm hoping it'll come back to me on how to do the gay stuff so I don't embarrass myself. Enjoy yourself tonight and at the wedding tomorrow. Maybe we'll run into each other again, Peter."

Peter gets on the elevator with John, asking, "What's your phone number? I really," and he lowers his voice even more, "I really want to see you, and maybe you'll, you know, do what you said."

One of the four people on the elevator with John and Peter clears their throat, then makes a huffing sound. John nods, "Okay, but this is my floor." Peter gets off with John and takes John's phone to punch the number in his phone as he mumbles, "You look frail, so maybe I'll smack you around a little until you blow me for nothing."

John feels a spark in his nuts and mumbles, "Yeah, maybe that would work, Peter. I gotta go now, though."

Peter grabs John and does a quick guy hug, saying, "I'll text you tomorrow. Dude, you're mysteriously cool. See ya..."

Leaving Peter to wait for the elevator, John's dick squirms in his pants as he walks down the hall and then up to the left. He shuddered, saying out loud, "What is there about Peter that I'm attracted to? Well, Jesus, almost every guy I meet, I'm attracted to in one way or another. What's that all about? The only one that really, really matters, though, is Andy."

In his suite, he brushes his teeth, gargles with mouthwash, then washes his face and hands. Drying, he hears a knock at the door... Andy!

To be continued...

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Next: Chapter 3

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