Love Is Where You Find It

By Henry Brooks (Hankster1430) - Laureate Author (Of Blessed Memory)

Published on Nov 17, 2008

Gay

Love Is Where You Find It Chapter Two

I turned to my hospital room mate. He was staring at me, and I thought he was kind of cute. He was probably in his early twenties so he was older than I. He had a blanket covering most of his body, and I couldn't make out much more of him

"I'm Aaron," I said to him. "I remember everything now."

He started to answer me, but a nurse came into the room.

"Well, how are you today Mr. Jackson? You are looking bright eyed this morning. The doctor will be in to see you shortly." Then much to my embarrassment, she began to bathe me. Thank God, she handed me a damp wash cloth and I did my own privates. I was amazed at how deftly she changed the bed linen with me still in the bed. When she was finished she removed my surgical dressings, and applied an antiseptic solution around the wound and the drainage tubes. Then she put on fresh dressings.

"I'll bet the doctor removes your catheter and the drainage tubes soon and the stitches in two or three days. You won't need dressings after that," she commented. "I'm also pretty sure that the doctor will want us to get you out of bed today." She directed her attention to my room mate, and repeated the bathing routine on him, and also changed his linen.

As soon as she left, breakfast was delivered to our room. It seems I was on a liquid diet, and they served me apple juice, clear broth (for breakfast) and black coffee. All I could down was the juice.

My room mate finally spoke. "My name's Carl Gilmore," he said.

"Aaron Jackson," I echoed. "It's nice to meet you. Where are you from?"

"San Francisco."

"Me too," I told him and I was really surprised. We then compared notes and found out that we had been on the same flight coming to Florida, and had the same flight going home. We were also going on the same gay cruise, or rather, not going.

"I think we'll have to call the airline to cancel our return flight. As soon as the doctor tells us when, we can reschedule our flight home, but it doesn't look like it will be any time soon, at least not for me. I have a broken arm and a broken leg and they tell me you had your spleen and liver punctured and both were surgically repaired."

"Wow," was all I could manage to say. "I have no medical insurance," I confided in him.

"You don't have to worry about it. The driver was high on cocaine and the cruise line is footing the bill. They're also returning or crediting us the complete cost of the trip including air fare. A couple of lawyers have been in to get us to start a joint suit against them, but I told them I wanted to talk to you about it first." He paused because what he was about to say was really painful.

"A man and a woman were killed at the point of impact, and you and I were hospitalized. Several other guys were treated at the scene and released, but I feel awful for those kids on the school bus. Five of them were killed outright and fifteen more were hospitalized. They have all since been released except for one little boy, and they don't think he'll make it."

"That's the pits," I agreed.

Just then a man in a lab coat entered the room. "Hello, Dr Bergman," Carl said. The doctor drew the curtain separating our beds, and began his daily examination of Carl's body. I could hear the conversation between them. It seems that all of Carl's bruises were healing nicely. He could be discharged in a couple of days and the cruise line was putting him up in a hotel near the hospital until the casts were removed and he was approved for flying. In the meantime they would give him crutches and a walking cast.

Then the doctor came to my bedside. He sat on a chair and extended his hand which I shook. "I'm Dr. Bergman," he said. "We know that your name is Aaron Jackson. We got that from your wallet. But we could not find any other names to call to advise them of your condition."

"What is my condition?" I asked.

"Well, you'll be just fine. Some of your vital organs were damaged, but we've repaired them and you are doing well. I'm going to remove your catheter and your drainage tubes today, and put you on a soft diet. I'll remove your stitches in a day or two, and you'll be good to go home the day after that. Now tell me. Is there anyone you want to notify?"

I should call my boss and my landlord," I answered, "but I can do that myself if you'd like."

"No," the doctor said. "It's best I call them. I wouldn't want them to think you're kidding and playing hooky." He wrote their numbers on a prescription pad, and then he removed my catheter and my drainage tubes.

When I said I had to pee, he handed me a urinal and said, "Use this for now. The nurses are going to get you out of bed for a while this afternoon." He pulled back the curtain and the first thing I saw was Carl smiling at me. He was really cute.

With morning baths and breakfast out of the way, Carl and I were undisturbed for awhile. We talked and talked and got to really know each other. I told him my story and how I got excommunicated and kicked out of the house and then he told me his story.

He was born and raised in San Francisco. His parents were religious fundamentalists, not unlike Mormons, and when he was only sixteen they caught him having sex with his father's brother who was only twenty. His father kicked him out and his grandfather kicked his uncle out. His uncle had a little money so he told Carl he was going to Los Angeles. Carl hadn't seen or heard from him since.

Carl got a job at a Burger King. In the beginning, he slept in shelters, but eventually he rented a furnished studio apartment just as I had done, in the same neighborhood. Now six years later he managed the store and expected to be made a regional manager in the near future. He had a nice one bedroom apartment in a good neighborhood, and his future looked promising. When he was through telling his story, he looked at me squarely in the eyes, and said, "The only thing I need now is someone to share my future with."

"That's just fantastic," I said. "I'm headed in the same direction as you are, and you have given me great hope. I don't feel so lost any more. Do you think you and I might get together sometime when we get home?"

"For sure," he answered. "If you hadn't asked, I would have." He smiled his wonderful smile at me.

Right after lunch, my phone rang. I was shocked at the unexpected sound, but managed to pick up the handset. It was Brad, and he sounded hysterical. I told him to calm down and I related the whole story to him. I assured him that I would probably be home in a week or a little longer. I asked him to please call my landlord and fill him in as well. When I hung up, I saw that Carl had dozed off. It occurred to me that both Brad and Carl seemed interested in me. The thought was overwhelming. I didn't have much time to dwell on it when the evening nurse came in to get me out of bed. Boy was I glad to see him.

He placed a chair at the side of my bed on Carl's side. He put his hands on my back and helped me sit up. Then he put my feet over the side of the bed and helped me stand. I stood still accepting his support. Then he made me take a few steps which thoroughly exhausted me, so he helped me sit down on the chair between the beds.

"I'll be back in awhile and help you get back in bed," he said.

I hadn't noticed but when I sat down, I rested my elbow on Carl's bed. I started to doze off when I felt Carl's cast touch my arm. His fingers protruded from the cast and he put them on top of mine. It was an act of intimacy that pleased me so that I looked up and saw that he was smiling at me. He took my arm, placed it under his top sheet and laid my palm on his cock. I had never touched anyone else's cock but mine and I was stunned. It felt so soft and silky. Carl started moving my hand so that it was stroking his cock in a masturbating fashion. I could feel his shaft hardening and I began to stroke him of my own volition. When it grew and hardened, I wrapped my whole hand around it and started jerking him off. His cock was massive. I could hardly encircle it, and a good two inches of it protruded beyond my hand. I don't know how long it had been since his last orgasm, but it seemed only seconds when he became short of breath, and then with a stifled whimper he came all over my hand and his foot cast.

He handed me a wad of tissues with his good hand. I cleaned up everything as best I could, and I threw the dirty tissues in the waste basket.

"Thank you Aaron," Carl said. "You have no idea how I needed that. I pretty much can't move, but maybe we can find a way for me to help you out."

Just then the nurse came back and helped me into bed. "If you'd like," he said, "I can help you take a real shower after your stitches are removed."

"I'd like that," I said.

I guess Carl and I were beginning to heal because we both finished the evening meal with nothing left over. My dessert had been a small tub of chocolate pudding. I even buzzed the nurse, whose name was Jorge by the way, and he got me a second pudding. He made us both as comfortable in bed as possible, gave us our evening meds, turned out our lights and bade us sleep well this evening. We watched TV for awhile until Carl said, "Let's talk."

He turned off the TV and asked, "Do you have a boy friend?"

I should have just said no and left it at that. I don't know what possessed me, but I decided to be honest with him.

"No," I answered. "Carl, I'm a virgin. I haven't even had the courage to walk into a gay bar. Maybe if I had someone to go with, but I don't know a soul in San Francisco, much less a gay soul. Your cock was the first one I ever touched other than my own."

"Wow," he said. "I didn't know. I hope I didn't scare you."

"No. It was wonderful."

"We have to find a way to take care of you," he said with determination in his voice.

"As wonderful as that sounds, that'll be tough."

"Not at all," he told me. "Jorge got you standing and walking a little. If you can just stand up and face my bed, I can do the rest."

"But that's the side with your arm cast," I pointed out to him, thinking he wanted to reciprocate by whacking me off.

"Let me worry about that," he said.

We waited until the lights were dimmed in the hallways and visiting hours were over. The ward seemed to be bathed in an eerie silence so different than the daytime hustle and bustle.

"Now," Carl said.

I was more afraid of pain than the inability to sit up and put my feet over the bed. I gritted my teeth and threw first one leg and then the other over the side of the bed. When I was in an upright position, I slid my butt further and further to the edge of the bed until my feet touched the floor. I pushed both my arms down on the bed and forced myself into a standing position. I felt a little stretching where I had stitches, but it was very mild and I didn't feel that I was doing any damage. As soon as I was standing I supported myself by holding on to Carl's bed.

"Move up the bed until you are standing even with my head," he ordered. I did as he asked. It only took one little slide. He raised the top of his bed until his mouth was even with my cock. Then he slid the upper part of his body until his face was almost hanging off the bed.

"Take your cock out and put it in my mouth," he said. I only had to raise my hospital gown to expose myself, but I was so excited I just fumbled around. By the time I got the gown out of the way, I was fully erect. Carl gave a little whistle and said, "It's beautiful."

He started out by pushing back my foreskin with his tongue, and I remembered that he was not circumcised either. I helped by holding the retracted foreskin out of the way. His tongue licked all around my cock head and I became faint with pleasure. I leaned harder against the bed and further into him. After teasing me for awhile he took my seven inch rod into his mouth, a little at a time, until I could feel his chin on my balls. His pursed lips slid up and down my shaft and his tongue flicked up and down the underside of my cock.

I had dreamed of this happening to me a million times, but yet I was unprepared for the erotic pleasure he was affording me. I wanted to scream, but remembered where I was and stifled myself. Carl seemed to be lost in his own little dream world. For a second he took my cock out of his mouth and murmured, "This tastes so good."

He resumed sucking my cock and I felt my orgasm growing. I stuffed a fist into my mouth and with my other hand I pulled Carl's head hard into me. I came with as stifled a scream as I could manage, and was absolutely shocked that Carl swallowed every drop, and then made sure that there was nothing left. He held me inside him for a long while before releasing my limp prick.

"Thank you," he said. "That was absolutely wonderful."

When he said that, I realized that sucking cock could be as enjoyable as being sucked. That was a good thing to know. I bent down with some difficulty and for the first time in my life I kissed another man. His lips were warm and inviting and I loved the feel of his tongue when it entered my mouth. I believe that I even tasted some of my own cum which must have remained in his mouth. I was one happy dude until I realized that I couldn't climb back into the high hospital bed.

Carl buzzed for Jorge. "What's the problem?" he asked as he came into our room. When he saw us he started laughing. I think he sized up the situation immediately.

"Was it good for both of you?" he asked. He didn't wait for an answer but he said, "Next time call me first and I'll get you both into a comfortable position." He helped me into bed and we heard him laughing all the way down the hall.

The next morning, after all the hospital routines were completed, and Carl and I were as comfortable in bed as we were ever going to get, we received a visit from two very austere suits. They identified themselves as attorneys for the cruise line.

There were many platitudes offered to us about how sorry they were that this unfortunate incident occurred and for the distress it had caused us. They took out some papers and asked us to sign releases. It seems that the cruise company, in addition to paying all the hospital, hotel and air fare expenses, was offering us each $25,000 for these releases. To me that sounded like a small fortune, but Carl started to laugh.

"We've already consulted some local attorneys and they are thinking more in the neighborhood of one million bucks each. Good day gentlemen. You'll hear from them." Carl reached over to his bedside table which was on his good side and reached for a business card. "The name of the firm is Ridley, Ridley and Frankel." He replaced the card and turned his face away from the two attorneys.

One of them said, "We are only authorized to go to $400,000."

"Good day, gentlemen," Carl repeated and turned away again. The two men left.

"Are you crazy?" I asked when they were gone. That's a bloody fortune."

"Don't worry, Hotboy," Carl said. "We'll get at least $750,000 each. He called me by my screen name and then I remembered I had given it to him when I told him my story. He sensed what I was thinking, and said, "You are hot, you know." I looked over at him and he blew me a kiss. I found myself blushing, but I blew one back to him.

At about 11 AM, Dr. Bergman came into the room with one of the nurses. He removed my dressings and said, "You're looking good, young man." He then proceeded to remove my stitches. When they were gone, he bathed my surgical scars with an antiseptic solution and put on fresh bandages. "After tomorrow you won't need these," he said. "I'll probably discharge you the day after tomorrow so you can make arrangements to fly home."

Then he said to Carl, "Tomorrow morning, I'm changing your foot cast. It will be smaller and you'll be able to walk, well hobble, on it with crutches. The day after that, I'll have you taken to the hotel where the cruise line is putting you up until we remove the casts. How does that sound to you?"

"Great doc, just great," Carl answered him.

When the doctor left and we were alone, Carl looked at me. "Aaron," he said, we are both getting out of the hospital in two days. Why don't you stay with me in the hotel for a few days before flying home? Consider it part of your recovery process. You shouldn't go back to work for awhile anyway."

As he made this proposition to me, he raised his bed sheet to show me his massive raging hardon.

"It sounds good to me," I said, "But I told my boss I'd be home in a week, so why don't we plan on three or four days. I'll be waiting for you in San Francisco, I swear."

"It's a deal," he said to me and blew me another kiss.

That afternoon, the suits returned and offered us $750,000 each, just as Carl had predicted. This was in addition to all the costs of the trip and the hotel. My head was spinning so fast, I got nauseous. I thought Carl would grab the papers and sign right off, but instead he said, "Please leave the papers here and return tomorrow. We need to talk about it."

"Fair enough!" one of the lawyers said. We'll see you tomorrow bright and early."

As soon as they left, Carl turned to me and in a sing song manner said, "I told you so."

"Why did you tell them to come back?" I asked.

"We'll accept of course, but I wanted to make them sweat. $750,000 is nothing to them. Think about the millions they'll be paying out to the parents of those dead kids and to the family of that dead couple."

Both of us lay back in bed thinking about how our lives were about to change. Suddenly Carl said, "Hey we have got to take care of the airline tickets. We buzzed for the nurse, who helped us get the airline on the phone. When we explained that we had been hospitalized after that horrific bus crash, we were informed that there would be no charge for altering the flight arrangements. I rebooked the same flight I had, but for six days from now. Carl was left open ended until he was cleared for flying.

After dinner, Jorge asked me if I wanted a real shower. Is the Pope Catholic? He removed my dressings which were clean and showed no blood or drainage. Then he helped me out of bed which was so much easier with the stitches out. The shower was in the bathroom. It had no door or shower curtain, but plenty of handle bars. Jorge told me to step out of my slippers and gown as he adjusted the water temperature.

I stepped in and he handed me a wash cloth and a bar of soap. I began to wash my face and neck and then I soaped myself under the arms. From there I headed for my chest and cock and as I did so I automatically turned my back toward Jorge. I was still a shy Mormon boy.

"Give me the soap," he said "and I'll do your back." I handed him the soap and stepped back toward him as far as I could without leaving the shower. He began to wash my back and then he started to do my ass. I felt his fingers massaging my crack and I began to get hard. He inserted a soapy finger into my crack and found my prostate. "You like?" he asked.

"I like," I answered. Suddenly he wrapped his other hand around my cock and started stroking. With one finger up my ass and the other hand jerking me off, I came without even trying to stifle my scream.

"You can rinse off now," he said. He helped me out of the shower and he helped me dry myself. He brought me fresh slippers and a new gown and got me back into bed. He put on a new dressing and I was ready for the night.

As he left the room, Carl asked, "Hey Jorge, how about me?"

"Later," he said and was gone.

True to his word Jorge returned right after lights out. He woke us both and first gave Carl a blow job and then me.

I was beginning to think that a stay in the hospital was not such a bad thing.

To be continued...

Next: Chapter 3: Love Is Where You Find It 3


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