By Donny Mumford - Laureate Author

Published on Nov 3, 2023




Saturday morning, John is again contentedly leaning his body against Andy's as they go down to the lobby in elevator number three. Andy makes eye contact with John, barely shaking his head, 'No,' and John realizes he's not supposed to lean on him. "Oops, sorry, boss," then he straightens up, grinning, adding, "It's a habit." By now, his lisping has become amazingly similar to Andy's.

Since waking this morning, John's been intrigued by Andy's new, no-nonsense, bossy manner. He assumes it's Andy's usual morning demeanor that he's experiencing for the first time. It's actually only a shadow version of Brian O'Neil's bossy leadership behavior, but John doesn't remember Brian, so he's curious why Andy being bossy makes his dick tingle.

Looking sideways to be sure Andy isn't watching, John gropes his quivering cock. He has a warm, fuzzy feeling knowing that Andy cares enough about him to be his bossy leader. After all, John can't remember anything before awakening from his coma, so it's as if he's two months old and, therefore, needs guidance.

Stepping off the elevator, Andy asks, "Are you okay, Darling? You're acting weird this morning."

"What? No, I'm doing good, Andy! And, um, I think you're extra cool, and I, ah, well, I appreciate your help with my amnesia. And I probably mention this too often, but I love and admire you so much. You're my idol."

Andy wants to gush his thanks for such a heartfelt complimentary endorsement from John. Instead, he forced himself to stay in his bossy persona, lisping, "Well, thanks, but I'd rather hear something positive about how you've recovered a lost memory or two."

Sounding almost exactly like Andy, John lisps, "I'm trying to do that, for sure."

Andy says, "Please don't imitate my speech impediment. I told you about that last night!"

Nodding, John mutters, "I didn't realize I was... sorry."

When he said that, it still sounded like he was lisping. Andy is a soft-hearted guy, so instead of following up his protest about John copying his lisp, he ignores it and puts his arm around John's waist, saying, "You're doing okay, Johnny. We'll work together to regain your memory; that's what's important."

John again lisps when he says, "Thanks, and please stay on top of my behavior, too. I want to be good, so you'll be proud of me."

What the fuck? Andy feels he's in over his head mentoring John Darling. He had no idea what a proper response to that might be. He shrugs, thinking, 'Fuck it. I guess it's okay if he wants to imitate me.'

They go to the same hotel restaurant John was too intimidated to have breakfast in yesterday. Today, he's with Andy and doesn't hesitate for a second going into the restaurant.

Rationalizing that he's made a point this morning about what John's not to do, Andy figures he'll reinforce those concepts tomorrow. For now, he can't resist John's beautiful boyish, shy smile or John's eyes that are full of love and devotion, anxious to please.

Without intending to disregard Andy's instructions, John bumps against his side because physical contact with Andy makes John feel safe, and he thinks as long as he's with Andy, everything will be alright. Andy smooths out the trials of John being released from the hospital, living in the hotel with his amnesia handicap.

They get seated, and a plump waitress with a noticeable mustache of fine dark hair arrives. Putting down two menus, she says, "Good morning. Can I get you coffee or juice while you look at the menu?"

John looks away to let Andy handle the waitress. Without looking at the menu, Andy says, "I'll have coffee, scrambled eggs, bacon, and white toast."

John, sounding precisely like Andy, acting girlishly shy, lisps, "I'll have the same, please."

Before writing anything on her little pad, the waitress frowns, glancing at John and then at Andy, who raises his eyebrows, shrugging as if asking... What? The waitress, not knowing what to make of these two, shakes her head, smiles, and she's off to take their breakfast order to the kitchen.

John unconsciously taught himself to lisp by trial and error. One example of that is John copying Andy's 'S' sound by pressing his tongue against his front teeth when a word had an 'S' sound, changing it to a 'TH' sound precisely as Andy does it.

When he got out of bed this morning, Andy encouraged John to do the same, saying they had things to do today and needed to get moving. That wasn't true. The only thing they had to do today was John's doctor's appointment at eleven o'clock. Still, Andy got John to get up and do what he was told.

Waiting for their breakfast, they talked about John's appointments with Dr. Hinds and how John should ask for suggestions of things he can do to help himself--exercises or whatever will help speed up his brain's memory recovery.

Andy asks, "Do you think your two doctors are helping?" John shrugs because he doesn't know if they're helping, but he tells Andy he's afraid to stop meeting with the doctors. John's only been out of the hospital for two days, so he's still frightened about that and most other things.

Their breakfasts are served, and they eat for a few minutes without talking. Then John says, "I've been thinking maybe I should text Dr. Ryan Berry. He offered to hypnotize me. Do you think I should?"

Andy frowns, mumbling, "Do I think you should? Why wouldn't you text him, Johnny? Try everything the hospital staff suggests."

John's much too sensitive and interprets Andy's comments as criticism. Immediately, tears form in his eyes as he mutters, "I'm just asking..."

Losing his patience, Andy goes, "Well, why would you think you need to ask me?" Then, calming down, he goes, "You know, you need to do whatever you can to help recover your memory, right? So, of course, text Dr. Berry."

"Uh-huh, but please don't yell at me. It's just that I feel more confident doing what you tell me to do."

Andy feels terrible for losing his patience, calmly saying, "Um, sure, but don't cry every time I don't pat you on the back. I get upset seeing you distraught, Darling. I'm not putting you down or anything. So, you know, hypnotism might help recover your memory even if the doctor said it doesn't work for most people."

Wiping his eyes, John says, "You know what, Andy? Goddamn it, you're so right about that! Jesus, I should have figured that out on my own. Amnesia must make a person stupid. I mean, I've completed three years of college at Duke University, but even to myself, I seem stupid. I can't be this dumb, can I?"

Yeah, it's also occurred to Andy that John has been acting like he's, well, like he's retarded. Or is it as simple as he has no confidence and therefore seeks approval before doing, um, anything? Well, it's understandable when you consider that John's current life started two months ago. That's all he knows about life: two months of living after a month-long coma and then amnesia about his prior life.

They talk about that, agreeing John isn't stupid even if he sometimes acts stupid. Then John insists on paying for breakfast. After giving his debit card to the plump waitress, he says, "Andy, to help me, you need to be with me almost all the time, and we'll need to eat in restaurants. That is an expense you wouldn't have if you weren't helping me, so please let me pay for our meals without me needing to arm wrestle you for every check."

Andy grins, then says enthusiastically, "Hey, that didn't sound stupid at all, Johnny! You're right, except I'm not moving in with you during the week. I have a job five days a week, but I can spend some time with you during lunch at the hospital's cafeteria and after work for an hour or so. Otherwise, you'll need to start doing things by yourself."

"Oh, no! It's too soon, Andy! Eating dinner alone... fuck no! I can skip breakfast or grab something at McDonald's, but I can't eat dinner alone. Please, Andy!"

Swallowing the last of his coffee, Andy lisps, "You could eat dinner in your suite, but I'd feel bad knowing you were doing that every night. Here's what I'll do. I'll stay with you again tonight and then have dinner with you all next week. Okay?"

John smiles, squeezing Andy's hand, "Thank you, Andy. I can't imagine what I'd do if I didn't have you helping me."

If someone familiar with Andy had their back turned, they'd swear Andy Salsbury said that last sentence. John sounded exactly like Andy, and Andy couldn't help but grin, saying, "You're a fantastic mimic, Johnny."

"Whaddaya mean?"

"Haha, you sound exactly like me. That's okay, though." John isn't intentionally mimicking Andy; it's just happening independently.

After John signs the credit card slip, they walk outside with Andy holding John's hand. He did it automatically, without thinking about it. John bumps Andy as they walk. "Where are we going, Andy?"

"Just walking to nowhere in particular, Johnny. You're supposed to get exercise every day. Walking is a good exercise."

"Oh, yeah, that's what my physical therapist said, too. Um, can I smoke a cigarette?"

"Jesus Christ, Johnny. Didn't we just talk about this? You don't need to ask my permission to do anything, smoke a cigarette or whatever!" He lost his patience again, adding, "Do whatever you like. Gawd!"

John doesn't handle criticism from Andy well, and he feels that crying sensation he can't control coming on him again, so he can't speak for a minute. He wipes away a few tears that Andy ignored, and then John takes a deep breath and mumbles, "I like getting your approval before doing anything. I'm still not sure what's right and what's wrong. And, um, maybe cigarette smoke would offend you."

"Well, it won't. I used to smoke in high school, and I smoked a cigarette with you yesterday. Don't be so sensitive, Johnny. I'm on your side, dude!"

They both light a cigarette and smoke, walking hand in hand, ignoring a balky guy with a shaved head who appears to be around twenty-five years old sitting on a bus stop bench, asking, "Hey, which one of you faggots is the snatch and which one is the guy with the hard cock?"

Continuing to walk, John asks Andy, "Why would that guy bother saying that shit? What does he get out of it? Why does he care?"

"All good questions, Darling, but I have no answers. In some parts of this country, it would be unsafe for gay guys to walk hand in hand like we're doing. I've wondered why random strangers care what I'm doing, why they care that I have a speech impediment, or care that I died my hair a ridiculously bright red color two summers ago. I guess they can't help themselves. They need to be rude, and they get their rocks off being bullies to weaker guys than them."

John lisps, "Well, yeah, that guy looked strong. He knew we'd just keep walking. Um, ah, and we both agree I'm gay, right? Am I the snatch, and you're the hard cock faggot?"

Andy laughs, then says, "Um, I guess that's what that dick-head at the bus stop would say. As far as you being gay, I think it'd be a miracle if you recovered your memory and realized you're a straight heterosexual. At first, I was wondering if you were acting gay because I'm gay, but now I'm positive that you're homosexual like me. That word, homosexual, sounds so harsh, though. We're gay; that sounds nicer.

"I agree with you that I'm gay. Do you think there's a chance you and I will be together forever?"

Andy smiles, "Isn't it pretty to think so? That's perhaps an unrealistic longshot expectation, though. Let's enjoy each other without fretting about the long term."

"Andy! That quote is an Ernest Hemingway line from "The Sun Also Rises."

"What is?"

"What you said... Isn't it pretty to think so? How'd I know that? It's like yesterday when I recognized a quote from a Wordsworth poem that a guy in the hotel said. It's almost scary that I recognize these weird things but can't remember my parents."

Shrugging, "That is weird. Maybe you're an English major at Duke."

"Yeah, maybe, although it's not ringing any bells memory-wise."

They discuss that as they turn around to return to the hotel. They're doing that because both need to piss after two cups of coffee each at breakfast.

Andy mutters, "We should have gone to the hotel suite right after breakfast, Johnny. I can't think of everything, bro. Don't hesitate to speak up if you think I've forgotten something or haven't thought of something."

John whines, "I don't know what we're supposed to do. Well, um, that is, except I hope you haven't forgotten that you and me having sex will help me recover my memory. When we're in the room, could we, you know, have sex to shake loose a memory."

Andy's eyebrows go up as he thinks, 'Yeah, why the hell not?' Then he says, "If that's what you think might help, sure."

They enter the hotel through the main entrance and encounter a wedding party coming out--five guys wearing cool tuxes and four young women dressed in identical dresses. The only one missing was the bride.

One of the guys stops and pats John's shoulder, "Hey, how ya doing, John? As you can see, we're on our way to the church."

It's the androgynous guy who followed John in the hotel yesterday and, unknowingly, quoted a Wordsworth line. He's not androgynous now, though. When John first encountered him near the hotel's gift shop, he'd had long, straight hair, like a woman's hairdo. The next time John saw the guy, he'd given himself a haircut, and that put an end to the androgynous look, although the guy still had sort of feminine facial features. He's pretty, actually.

John says, "Oh, hi, um..." and the guy says, "I'm Peter, remember?" Then he looks at Andy, "Who's this?"

Andy answers, lisping, "I'm John's friend, Andy Salsbury. Are you getting married?"

Hearing Andy's lisp, Peter is taken aback a little. Right away, though, he realizes he shouldn't be surprised because John is gay, too. He ignores the lisp, saying, "No, not me. My sister is marrying him," pointing to a tall fellow looking at his wristwatch.

Turning to John, Peter says, "Don't forget that tomorrow I'm giving you a haircut, and in return, you're going to, you know." He pokes his cheek out with his tongue.

John frowns at that as Peter adds, "Well, I've gotta catch up with the wedding party. See you tomorrow, John... nice meeting you, Andy," and he's out the door.

Andy looks at John, "Was he implying what I think he was implying?"

John shrugs, "I don't know. He assumes stuff. He wanted to buy me a beer, but I backed out. It's um, it's nothing. He said he's straight, so I don't know what to think." Then he leans against Andy and asks, "What do you think?"

They start walking to the elevator with Andy saying, "It seemed he thinks you and him are going to have sex, but you just told me he's straight, so I don't know what the hell to think."

John goes, "Well, Peter wants me to blow him, but I'm probably not going to. I do want to get a haircut, though. I had a recovered memory yesterday about me never having long hair. Certainly, never like I have now. It's been at least three months since my last haircut, and it's been very annoying dealing with hair this long." Then he remembers Andy's ponytail. "Oh, your ponytail is cool, though; I'm not dumping on you, Andy."

"Don't worry about it. You look good with long hair, Johnny. You don't need a haircut, and certainly not from that dude."

On the crowded elevator, John mutters, "Oh, I was hoping you'd agree with me, but that's okay..." Andy tried to let go of John's hand, but John held on tightly, pulling him inside the elevator car and muttering to no one in particular. "Excuse us, excuse us," justling passengers, dragging Andy to the back of the car.

Andy gave John one of his disapproving 'looks,' so John, feeling chastised, muttered barely loud enough for Andy to hear, "I'm sorry, I don't know why I thought it'd be better in the back of the car," his eyes are tearing up, then two teardrops rolling down his cheeks.

Doing a little head shake, Andy whispers, "Be calm; it's alright. Don't fucking cry, okay?"

Two women standing next to Andy and John exchange 'looks' like, 'Did you see that?'' Then they both look away, probably thinking the good-looking, disabled young man is, ah... 'slow.' They wouldn't say the word retarded, but that's the word they're thinking.

Andy sighs, then wipes John's tears with the pad of his thumb, quietly muttering, "Calm down, Darling. And you know what? I think you're right about the haircut."

Getting off the elevator at their floor, John lisps, "I'm right?"

"Yes, it might help your memory if you get a haircut like you were routinely getting before the accident. Um, that is, if you remember what your normal haircut was."

Andy says, "What haircut did I have three months ago when I was admitted to the hospital? That would be my routine haircut, right?"

"Yeah, Goddamn, Darling, that was smart, proving again that you're not stupid."

John uses the card key to unlock the door as Andy mutters, "Haha, no offense, but the first time I saw you, I thought your haircut was like the haircuts my old man instructed the barber to give me when I was a little kid."

John frowns as Andy quickly adds, "But that's the haircut you should get because it might light up some more memories for you. Don't forget to tell your doctors about the hairdo memory, the poem, and Hemmingway's quote. This is already encouraging, and it's only day two out of the hospital."

John nods and excitedly says, "Yeah, you're right. And, as you said, me sucking your dick, then you spanking and fucking me, will light up some more memories."

Andy rolls his eyes, chuckles, then mumbles, "Well, mostly it's you who thinks that will bring on more memories, but I'm certainly not opposed to the idea."

They go into the bathroom and take their dicks out, and stand together in front of the toilet. Grinning, John says, "Let me hold your dick while you pee," and he takes hold of Andy's six-inch penis with his right hand's thumb and forefinger. Andy makes a face at him but doesn't object because he's enthralled with their sex play, although he tries not to show it.

"This is sexy hot, Andy," John squeezes Andy's penis while holding his dick with his left hand's forefinger and thumb." It's wicked childish, Andy, but let's see who finished first," and they both let their piss stream flow. Andy's hands are on his hips as he shudders, then lisps, "Have you ever heard of a urine fetish or a foot fetish?"

Fascinated by their piss streams, John lisps, "Um, what? Foot fetish? No, I never heard of that, but I think I might have a pee fetish. My dick is getting hard watching our piss hit the water. My piss is darker than yours."

Andy mutters, "You're not hydrated enough. You need to drink more water. More importantly, are you getting a memory about urinating?"

Ignoring what Andy said because John's fascinated with their piss streams. He lisps, "This is so cool," then moves the middle finger of his right hand under Andy's piss stream, and piss splatters in all directions as Andy yells, "What the fuck? Don't do that!"

John's penis gets wicked hard, so he waits two seconds before taking his middle finger away. Meanwhile, as his penis got hard, his piss stream became only a dribble... his cock, hard as stone. He moans, "I'm sorry, but, oh, fuck, that was so cool..."

Andy's piss stream is slowing down too, so John lisps, "Um, let me suck on your dick, Andy."

Without waiting for an okay, he drops to his knees and pulls Andy's penis to his mouth, the weak stream of piss making a wet line across his cheek; then the head is in John's mouth, and he's sucking down the urine.

Andy's shocked; he makes a face, trying to cut off his urine flow but can't. Hardly believing what he's seeing, he watches John swallowing the last ounce or two of urine, then John sucks on the head. Taking a deep gasping inhale, Andy goes, "Holy shit, I've heard of a urine fetish, but seeing it in real life... Gawd! That's a turn-on right there, Darling."

John hears him but is so sexually aroused he goes down on Andy's cock, doing it three times fast, his nose poking Andy's belly each time and the head going into John's throat. It gets Andy's cock as hard as John's boner.

Going down on it again, a moan of deep sexual arousal comes from John's throat. He strokes his cock while continuing bobbing up and down on Andy's. "Oh, oh, oh... fuck," moans Andy, and then he climaxes in John's mouth, replacing the swallowed urine with hot, creamy cum that coats John's tongue and esophagus.

Five seconds later, John shoots a hard stream of his own cum. It fires straight out, clipping the inside of Andy's left leg. They both almost blacked out from the unbelievably intense pleasure sensations of their orgasms.

Andy stepped back, pulling his cock from John's mouth, then squeezed it. Neither can speak until intense pleasure vibrations and sexy chills stop streaming all over their bodies. Andy mutters, "Mother of God, what happened here, Darling? Wow..."

John stands and stumbles two steps back, leaning against the sink, "That was extremely exciting but weird, too. Um, as hot as that was, I'm disappointed it didn't bring back any memories."

Gasping, then Andy asks, "Nothing, huh? No memory of anything?"

John shrugs, "Well, I'm almost positive I've never swallowed urine before. So, I guess that's a memory."

He had no memory of swallowing urine because there wasn't a memory to remember. His roommate and dominant top, Brian O'Neal, doesn't have extensive sex expertise. His sexual activities consist of John blowing him and licking his asshole, then Brian spanking and fucking John. That's it, and the fucking is conventional; nothing sexually exotic. Brian wasn't adventurous with sex, but what he did, he did often!

Andy's like, "I've heard of a urine fetish, and it seems you're inclined to experiment with it. So, I'll let you play with my piss if you'll let me smell your feet, suck your toes, and, um, whatever. No one has helped me with my foot fetish, but I'll bet you will, right?"

Nodding, John goes, "I've never heard of anything like that, but yeah, you can do it with my feet. Heh-heh... why not? Oh, and I just remembered something else. Yesterday when I was blowing you, I got an urge to lick your ass but couldn't reach it except for one quick lick with the tip of my tongue. That seriously arouses me."

"Yeah, that's called rimming, Darling, which was another thing no one has ever done for me. I've never done it for anyone, either. No offense, but it seems gross to me, and so is drinking piss, but I'll let you do both."

"Oh, wow, I'm probably a sex slut, huh?"

"Yeah, probably," and continuing to joke about it, he adds, "But I don't care as long as you're my sex slut."

They laugh at that, and then John asks earnestly, "Seriously, though, what should I do first? Let you smell and lick my feet or rim your asshole?"

Andy nervously laughs, worried again about taking advantage of John. He isn't so virtuous, though, that he's going to pass up this opportunity. He's rationalizing that while helping John lose his amnesia, some benefits are also there for him... what's wrong with that?

Andy adds, "Um, both are awesome ideas, but let's put the foot fetish off until the end of the day. It'll be sexier if your feet are in smelly sweat socks and sneakers all day."

John nods, "Okay, and you just pissed, so that leaves only rimming. Since we both just blew a load, shouldn't we wait a while for that too?"

Andy's washing his hands in the bathroom sink, "Yeah, we'll wait. We both just climaxed, but I'm excited about the rimming idea. And, Goddamn, I haven't found anyone who has knowingly participated in foot fetish activities with me. As for rimming my asshole, no one has ever even mentioned that."

John mumbles, "I'll try anything with you, Andy. It's disappointing, though, that I'm not getting any positive memories about the urine play or foot fetish. Touching your asshole briefly with my tongue made me think I'd done rimming for someone."

"Licking someone's asshole is a really weird fetish."

John's like, "Yeah, but aren't all fetishes weird to those who don't have the fetish? And you said, 'knowingly participate in your foot fetish.' How else could they participate except knowingly."

Andy chuckles, "I'm not proud of this, but I've smelled the inside of guys' shoes when they weren't wearing them. In high school, I'd sneak into the locker room while a gym class went on and smell guys' shoes. Smelling sweat socks and sneakers would have been ten times better, but they wore their sneakers for gym class. Omigod, though, I had some monstrous jerk-offs because some guys have wicked foot odor, ya know?"

"Ew! That's gross..."

Andy snaps, "And drinking urine and licking my asshole isn't gross? C'mon, get over here. Don't you wash your hands after taking a piss? Especially after putting your finger in my piss..."

John immediately reacts to that authoritative-sounding voice, wets his hands, and lathers with soap. "I always wash my hands after going to the bathroom. Waddaya talking about? Um, so we'll do those nasty fetish things later, right?"

Impressed with how fast John responded to his bossy manner, Andy says, "Yeah, later. Right now, though, I want you to text that doctor about being hypnotized."

"Oh, right," he dries his hands, takes out his cell phone, and texts Dr. Berry: 'I hope you remember me, Dr. Berry. I'm the coma patient, John Darling. You said if I text you, maybe you'd hypnotize me to see if that helps with my amnesia. I'd like that, and can I bring a friend, my only friend, to watch?'

John hits 'SEND' as Andy asks, "What did you say in that long text?"

"It's not that long," and he shows his text to Andy, who nods, "Oh, yeah, that's good. I hope the doctor is okay with me watching."

Holding hands at John's insistence, they walk the mile to the hospital. As they walk, Andy mentions one topic after another to see if anything sparks a memory in John, who thinks he remembers a few things but then tells John, "Nah. Stop! I think I'm fooling myself with these supposed memories. I feel as if I'm making up memories that aren't real because I want so badly to please you. I can't tell if the memories I said I had are real ones or not."

Again, tears of frustration start rolling down John's face. It's not a boo-hoo crying thing, but his amnesia-frustration causes tears to flow. He sniffs and wipes his eyes on his sleeve. Andy stops them and hugs John, murmuring, "We'll forget about trying to bring on a memory, Johnny. I guess it's best to let the doctors do that."

John hugs Andy back, "I only want to be in bed with you, Andy. Fuck the doctors. If you stay with me, I don't care if I never remember my life before the accident. It couldn't possibly be as good as my life is with you. I inherited a lot of money so you and I could live together and the hell with the rest of the world. I only want to be with you."

Saying all that gets him very emotional, and he's crying aloud now. Holding onto John, Andy's eyes move left to right, seeing a few pedestrians looking strangely at them, but what can he do about it? John continued hugging and crying as Andy murmured, "Shh, don't cry; it's okay, Darling. Calm down, please. People are looking at us."

A woman walks up to them, asking, "Can I help? I'm a nurse at Boston Medical Center."

Andy says, "Oh, I work there too. I'm a certified nurse's assistant, Andy Salsbury, and this is John Darling. He has an eleven o'clock appointment with Dr. Hinds."

She notices the lisping and asks, "What did you do or say to him that caused him to cry?"

Andy recognizes the innuendo that he did something untoward. He controls his urge to get snippy with her and calmly says, " We were trying to jog Johnny's memory, and he got upset, frustrated because he didn't know if he was having real memories or made-up ones."

As John and Andy loosen their arms around one another but don't take their arms away entirely, John's crying winds down. He is not happy about this nurse's intrusion. It scares him.

The nurse says, "He has amnesia?"

"Yes, he was the hospital's coma patient."

"Oh, my goodness, that's right. I knew I recognized that name! I'm Nurse Rose Mayfair. So, this is John Darling, huh? Wow, what a good-looking young man you are, John! I didn't realize you were released."

John moves closer to Andy as the nurse, used to taking charge of situations, brazenly finger-combs John's thick, wavy dark blond hair off his forehead, her head close to John's as she quietly murmurs, "John, it's okay. Confabulating is a common side effect of amnesia. You're doing fine."

Nudging her body in between John's and Andy's, she murmurs, "Nurse Salsbury and I will ensure you get to Dr. Hinds' appointment on time. C'mon, you're doing wonderfully."

John's not crying as he looks at Andy again, like, 'Where did she come from?'

Andy needs to take his arms away, or it would be an obvious tug-of-war with Nurse Mayfair. Forcing a smile, Andy says to the nurse, "Thank you, but I think we're good now. Johnny gets upset with, um, new medical personnel. He takes a while to feel comfortable with, um, strangers."

Nurse Rose Mayfair has taken note of not only Andy's lisping but also his overdone hugging, the side of his face against John's. It was borderline sexual, so she said, "Well, be that as it may, we're only a few blocks from the hospital, so I'll walk with you just in case I can be helpful."

Nurses aren't known to be shy, and they can be quite pushy.

Andy isn't pushy and backs down immediately, "Yes, Nurse Mayfair," then to John, "We're almost there, Johnny."

He steps away to avoid John holding his hand. Andy doesn't know Nurse Mayfair, but he's aware that some of the nurses at the hospital have a problem with him and his overly exaggerated homosexual behavior with the lisping and all the limp-wristed body language. They don't like him interacting with the intimate duties of bed baths for young men, especially for John Darling, a boy, really. Many hospital staff members became very protective and possessive of John Darling because he was so youthfully good-looking and helpless in his coma.

Andy is aware of this unfair appraisal of him by some homophobic nurses but doesn't know what he can do about it. Not so much the doctors; it's more a nurse thing that intimidates Andy. He is now nervous that Nurse Mayfair will report him as being overly affectionate with a vulnerable recent coma patient.

As they walk, Nurse Mayfair, in between the guys, asks Andy in an accusatory manner, "Did you just happen along and see him crying?"

Thinking he's protecting Andy, John answers before Andy can say anything. "No, Andy didn't just come along! He's my only friend. I depend on him. He's helping me, sleeping with me, and doing other, um, things. The night before, I woke up every hour without Andy. Then, last night with Andy, I slept right through the night."

The nurse gives Andy a dirty look, muttering to him, "You and I, Buster, need to talk after I get Mr. Darling to his doctor's appointment."

Furious that she said, 'After I get Mr. Darling...' Andy is the one who is getting John to his appointment on time, but he's too intimidated to make a point of it. Timid, nervous, and afraid, he says, "Certainly, Nurse Mayfair," and his balls shriveled up a little because no one at the hospital would like it that he slept with John.

Yes, even Andy can understand how that sounds ominous.

Nurse Mayfair has her arm lightly on John's shoulders, keeping her body between John and Andy as she talks softly to John, asking him questions. Andy strains to hear what's innocently coming from John's mouth. John's body is stiff as a board because he is very uncomfortable that this stern, female authority figure has taken charge of everything. He doesn't see the irony of him getting a boner when Andy's dominantly taking charge, but instead of a boner, he gets nervous and afraid when a female dominates and takes over.

John strains his eyes to catch a glimpse of Andy, making sure John knows that he's still with them. Inside the hospital, Nurse Mayfair sits John down near the nurses' station, telling him, "You sit here, John. We'll go to the fourth floor to see Dr. Hinds after I talk with Nurse Salsbury." Looking at the clock on the wall, she mutters, "It's ten minutes of eleven, so we've got plenty of time. Just sit here!"

John looks at Andy, who is looking compassionately at John, shaking his head slowly, indicating he can't interfere with the nurse. John says, "I want Andy with me."

Nurse Mayfair, who was walking over to Andy, stops and turns, putting her finger to her lips, "Shh, John. No talking for now, okay? It'll be fine. I'm coming right back to you. Don't be afraid..." talking to him as if he's six years old. That's how old John feels, too. He wants his binky, Andy, and the tears start flowing, although he's crying silently.

She takes hold of Andy's arm and mutters, "Come over here so you don't upset John any more than you already have."

Andy's petrified because he can see how this bitch has the wrong idea about him. Andy's been telling himself not to take advantage of John's vulnerable situation, and he hasn't, but who will believe him?

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself sleeping with a patient as vulnerable as an amnesia patient. He feels lost and afraid. A nurse's position is one of trust! I'll be talking with the head nurse and administration about your despicable behavior. For now, get out of here! I'll take care of John. You need to leave this facility before I lose my temper!"

Andy scurries away, and Nurse Mayfair turns to comfort John, but he isn't crying now. Well, he isn't crying here, anyway. He may be crying somewhere else, but he's gone. Nurse Mayfair looks all around, muttering, "What the...?"

She hurries to the elevator and takes it to the fourth floor, hoping John is at Dr. Hinds' office. He isn't because John hid in the men's room until the nurse stormed off, and then he went after Andy, catching up with him at the front entrance. "Wait up, Andy!"

Andy's shaking his head, "No, Darling! Go back! You need to go to Dr. Hinds' office on the fourth floor. I'll wait for you outside. Um, don't tell them about us doing anything."

Shaking his head, John runs up to Andy and leans against him, his arms going around him, mumbling, "I'm not telling them anything if you're not with me. I hate that nurse!"

Sighing, Andy hugs John back, muttering, "What the hell? I'm fucked anyway."

John mutters, "Why are you fucked?"

"The head nurse has the wrong idea, Johnny. She doesn't like me. Now, when that bitch tells the head nurse her distorted version of the truth, I'll be fired."

"Fuck them, Andy. I only wanna be with you."

Andy mumbles, "Yeah, you and Hootie and The Blowfish."

John goes, "What's a hootie?"

"Never mind, c'mon, Johnny, I'm going to get you to Dr. Hinds."

John shakes his head, "No, that nurse wants to get you in trouble. I don't want to see anyone but you."

Andy, scared to death, his heart pounding in his chest, nevertheless, walks John back inside the hospital, then over to the bank of elevators, muttering, "I'm already fucked. Don't worry about me. It's important that you keep your doctor appointments."

Walking into the waiting area on the fourth floor, they see Nurse Mayfair talking with Dr. Hinds. Andy's almost peeing his pants, but he uses guts he didn't know he had to get John to Dr. Hinds' office. The doctor sees them walking towards him, "Oh, here you are, John." Then, "And you must be Andy?"

Nurse Mayfair turns around. Oh man, she's furious for being made a fool of by these two. She acts professionally, though, and controls herself enough to say through clenched teeth, "Go with Dr. Hinds, John."

John looks at Andy, who nods his head, "Go ahead, Johnny. Don't worry about me. And don't forget to tell Dr. Hinds the three or four recovered memories you're sure of."

Looking like he's going to a firing squad, John nods and does what Andy says. Now it's just Nurse Mayfair and Ansy standing here. Giving Andy a nasty look, they watch Dr. Hinds and John enter the office. Then, Nurse Mayfair says, "I'm surprised you did the right thing bringing John to Dr. Hinds. That won't be enough to save your job, though, not if I have anything to say about it. Taking a vulnerable boy to bed is unspeakable. I'll let the head nurse know about that."

John takes a deep breath, then mumbles, "I quit. In five minutes, I'm giving my letter of resignation to the front desk. Satisfied?"

The nurse nods, "Yes, that's best, but you must also stay away from John Darling. I'll report you to the police and get a restraining order if necessary."

Andy sighs, wanting so badly to scream at this bitch or hit her, but it's simply not in him to do anything like that. He shakes his head, mumbling, "There's no need for that. You're wrong about my behavior with Johnny. All I did was try to help him. Actually, I think I've helped him more than all you nurses and doctors put together, but now, because of your dirty mind, I won't be able to help him further."

"What? You've helped him more than the doctors and nurses? Don't be ridiculous! And stay away from him!"

"I won't have any choice. I need to get a job, so I won't be able to be with John. This is the only hospital within four or five miles in any direction, so I won't be working nearby, and he needs to stay here for his outpatient doctor appointments."

Andy's nervous as hell, but he's bravely talking bullshit to Nurse Mayfair. He has no intention of leaving John Darling.

She says, "It's you who has the dirty mind. Get that letter of resignation written right now. You and your kind are disgusting!" She gives him a hard look, then turns and swaggers off.

Andy wishes he was brave enough to challenge her more than he did, but more than anything, he wants to get away from her now.

At the front desk, he borrowed a piece of paper and ballpoint pen to write a two-sentence resignation letter claiming an out-of-state family emergency as the reason for resigning without a two-week notice.

Walking out of the hospital, Andy isn't especially broken up about being forced to quit. He realizes he didn't like the job all that much, especially now that John Darling isn't a patient. For one thing, the job pays a shit-low hourly wage.

As for what he'll do now, he'll see what John wants to do. If John is willing to leave his doctors, they could travel to Wyoming and jog some memories loose, plus Andy could get a job there.

Meanwhile, John is telling Dr. Hinds, "Andy didn't do anything wrong. He and I are gay, but there's nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"No, of course not. Is that one of the memories Andy was referring to?"

John hadn't thought of his acknowledged gayness as a recovered memory until now. He nods, "Yes, I know I'm gay, so yes, it's a memory."

"Did you know you were gay, or did Nurse Salsbury suggest it?"

They discussed that without mentioning sex issues because John felt it was too awkward to talk about sex with a doctor. John convinced Dr. Hinds that Nurse Salsbury was being very helpful, but John had already quit.

The doctor was primarily concerned about John's emotional state and his frequent crying or tearing up episodes. He wants John to get an appointment with a physiotherapist. He also scheduled a follow-up MRI and CAT scan, plus a blood test to ensure no lingering infection or nutritional deficiencies.

They talked about John's odd knowledge of obscure literary references. It's strange to remember them when John can't remember his college major. The doctor believes that most amnesia cases resolve themselves. He feels that as soon as John's emotional and physical condition is stable, his best chance of recovering his memory is to return home, where he grew up.

John asks for some medicine, but there isn't any medicine the doctor feels would be appropriate. He's not big on prescribing just to be prescribing. John left Dr. Hinds after almost an hour, feeling encouraged that perhaps in a week or two, he'd be ready to go home. That's if Andy would come with him. He's not going any place without him.

Andy's pacing back and forth at the front entrance when John Darling walks out. Seeing Andy, a great smile spreads out on John's face as a sigh of relief comes from Andy, and then a big smile. They hug like they've been apart for years. Andy says, "C'mon, Darling. Let's go back to the hotel and talk about this shit storm."

After one last tight squeeze, John says, "I hate that nurse, but Dr. Hinds was nice."

This had been a traumatic hour and a half for both Andy and John. It ended with them more committed to one another than ever, and neither wanted to end the hug. Andy, being the adult, finally said, "I'm not welcome here at Boston Medical Center, Johnny." He takes John's arm away, adding, "Like I said a minute ago, let's go back to the hotel and think about what we want to do next."

They start walking, holding hands as John says, "You're sticking by me, aren't you, Andy?"

"Yes, that's the one thing you can be certain of."

Squeezing Andy's hand and bumping against his side, John says, "Thanks," then, "Um, Dr. Hines says in a week or two, I should be thinking about going home to Wyoming. It'll be hard, but I need to go to my house looking at everything, testing if I remember anything. He also said that amnesia usually fades away on its own, but this week, he wants me to take some tests and see a therapist about my emotional crying episodes. If I get those things under control, we can go to Wyoming. I mean, if you'll come with me."

John leans on Andy when they stop to wait for a green 'WALK' traffic signal. Andy says, "Of course, I'll go with you. I had to quit my job to avoid being fired. There's nothing keeping me here, but as you alluded to at breakfast, you'll need to pay for everything until I get another job."

Looking at Andy, John says, "What? You quit your job because of me? What the fuck? Of course, I'll pay for everything; that's only right since you're doing everything for me. Don't you realize how much I'm depending on you?"

Andy nods, "Yes, I do. Um, and don't be upset about me quitting my job today. I can get another nursing job, but as of right now, I have only about twenty-five dollars to my name."

The 'walk' light comes on, and they cross the street as John says, "You got fired because of me, and now I'm hiring you as my nurse. How much did you make at the hospital?"

Instead of giving the hourly wage, Andy gives his weekly earnings, "Five hundred and sixty dollars a week before deductions."

The situation has changed, and Andy now agrees he should be paid for caring for this amnesia patient, at least until John regains his memory. He didn't want to tell John the hourly wage the hospital paid because John would want to pay him that amount, fourteen dollars, for twenty-four hours a day. That would be taking advantage of John.

"Do you think that is a fair amount, Andy? I can pay you more."

"No, just that amount, and thank you. You're my patient now, so you need to do what you're told."

John grins and mutters, "Perfect."

Inside the two-room suite, John says, "No word from Dr. Berry. Should I text him again, Andy?"

"No, it's Saturday. Maybe he isn't at the hospital. He'll get back to you. Um, now that I'm working exclusively for you, I'll move in with you. We need to get my stuff from the apartment I share with two friends."

Flopping on the bed, John says, "I'll help you move your stuff, but for now, after a scary and fucked up morning with that bitchy nurse taking over... will you lie with me? I feel safe with you."

Nodding, Andy gets on the bed and hugs John, murmuring, "We're going to do great, Johnny. I'm glad that bitch of a nurse acted as she did because it accelerated decisions that had to be made eventually. I couldn't continue working at the hospital and go to Wyoming with you."

John kissed Andy, murmuring, "Thank you. Everything is turning out fantastic, and I liked what Dr. Hinds said about amnesia usually fading away on its own."

Pushing his fingers in John's long hair, Andy grins, mumbling, "It's turned out to be a great morning, but now that I'm working for you as your private nurse, you and I can't do the sex therapy anymore."

John mutters, "What? That's the most important part of my therapy... whaddaya mean we can't do it?"

Still grinning, Andy says, "We can't have sex now that you're paying me. I'd feel like a gigolo. No, if you were a woman, I'd be a gigolo. What I'll be is a male prostitute if I have sex with you."

John says, "I'd be happy to pay you for sex on top of your nursing salary, but our sex is what's helping me remember things... that's part of my cure."

Andy chuckles and says, "You're sounding less stupid by the minute, Darling. Yes, what a marvelous rationalization! Our sex is part of the treatment for your amnesia, so no extra payment is required, and I remain your nurse and not your prostitute."

John laughs, "I knew you were joking, Andy. This is the best I've felt in mind and body since coming out of my coma. I love you!"

Andy smiles, staring into John Darling's beautiful eyes, muttering, "How can I be so lucky to be the person helping you get better? This must be my pay-back for my less-than-special first twenty-two years.'

John smiles. "I'm the lucky one. Um, can I suck your penis? I'm anxious to do something sexy with my recently hired nurse."

Smirking, Andy mumbles, "Yes, and hopefully, it will be therapeutic for your amnesia."

Sliding down the mattress, John mutters, "And even if it doesn't work this time, we can always persevere and try again."

Then, looking at Andy, needing instructions, John asks, "Ah, should I pull your pants off all the way or just down to your knees?"

To be continued...

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Next: Chapter 6

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