A gay story: Land of the Living Ch. 02 Revised version copyright 2006 by the author.
“Are you sure you can manage him?” the doctor asked a week later. They were standing some distance from Lee, sitting placidly in a wheelchair at the curb of the hospital’s main entrance.
“Yes,” Jordan said with a confidence he didn’t feel. “He doesn’t know anyone, but he’s perfectly fine otherwise. You said his memory could come back at any time. Being at home he’ll be in familiar surroundings. Surely something will trigger it.”
“I hope so. Please let me know if there’s any change. Good luck,” she said, shaking Jordan’s hand.
Nothing miraculous happened when he brought Lee home, however. Still stiff from the accident, the professor hobbled inquiringly about, Jordan following, saying at one point, “Nice house.” A few minutes later, he said to Jordan, “So you’re my partner?”
“Yes, I am, Lee,” Jordan replied.
“So I’m gay,” Lee said musingly. He looked at Jordan. “Please forgive me, but right now, I don’t feel–anything for you. I don’t know you.”
Jordan tried to smile reassuringly. “Don’t worry about it. You just get some rest, take it easy. The university’s granted you a medical leave and we’re trying to keep things quiet, give you plenty of time to get better.”
“Thank you,” Lee said. The impersonal, formal tone in his voice made Jordan’s heart sink. How was he going to deal with this? And for how long?
A trace of humor flickered in the older man’s distant eyes. “You can trust me, Jordan. I’ll stay put. It seems I remember how to do the basics like feeding, dressing and the rest. I won’t wander off or pee on the rug.” He patted Jordan gently on the arm. “I’d like to look at the garden. I seem to have been good at growing things.”
The next afternoon Jordan came home from work. “Lee?” There was no response. He went outside around the house and yard, but Lee wasn’t there. Jordan walked into the house from the back, beginning to be worried. He called Lee’s name again.
“In here,” came a voice.
Relieved, Jordan went back into the master bedroom, then stopped short. Lee was standing naked, gazing at himself in the full-length mirror on the bathroom door with a critical air. He wheeled around, and Jordan recoiled at the sharp accusation in his eyes.
“Why did you let me get like this?”
Jordan stammered, “L-like what?”
“I’m a fat slob. This is disgusting. Why didn’t you say something?”
“What was I supposed to say? It’s your body.” He had never known his partner to be concerned about his weight before.
Lee shook his head, pursing his lips. “Well, I’m going to start working on this right now–after I shave.”
“Shave?”
“I’m getting rid of this ratty thing,” Lee said, pulling at his beard. “Mind if I use the NordicTrack?” he called from inside the bathroom a few moments later.
Jordan, still standing there, replied, “Go ahead, it belongs to the both of us.” Lee had never shown any interest in it until now. He left, shaking his head.
Later, at dinner, Lee’s strange energy seemed to have dissipated. He had returned to the pleasant, somewhat vacant state that had been the norm since he returned from the hospital. He had run on the NordicTrack for a good hour, and asked Jordan about gym memberships. Jordan had told him he could use his at the local fitness club.
In the days that followed, he saw no sign that his partner was improving, if that meant his memory returning. Lee treated Jordan with polite formality, as if he were a stranger temporarily sharing living quarters with him. Beneath his placid exterior, though, Jordan sensed something going on. Lee showed no interest in his academic or scholarly work, but continued exercising with fierce diligence, riding the machine in their home every day for long periods of time. He also found the track at the high school nearby. Inevitably, he was glimpsed by one of his colleagues at the University, who later called Jordan, frantic at the professor’s bizarre behavior. Jordan had to spend twenty minutes explaining the situation, and hung up dismayed. So much for the “medical leave” story.
He was uneasy himself about the situation. Periodically Lee’s calm was replaced by what seemed to be another, much more aggressive personality. That early day in the bedroom had been one instance of that. Another took place about a week or two afterward.
He came home and found Lee in the office, clicking at the computer keyboard. For a moment Jordan was startled, thinking that his partner’s memory might have returned. Lee looked up and smiled. “Been fooling around with this thing.”
“Oh really?” Jordan suddenly felt nervous. That strange look in Lee’s eyes was back, an unnatural brightness.
“Found some pretty interesting stuff. Your live-in know about all of this?”
Jordan stiffened. “What are you talking about?”
“This pic, for one.” Lee clicked the mouse and suddenly the picture of Marc in his red bikini filled the screen. “Pretty hot guy there. Someone you know?”
Jordan answered, trying to keep his voice steady, “Someone I knew.” He was angry, and bewildered at Lee talking about himself as if he were another person.
“So high and mighty about people fucking around, and you’re doing the same thing left and right. ”
“That’s not true.” Jordan began to be frightened as well as angry.
“Oh no? What about that little blond number you go see?”
Jordan was speechless. How could Lee possibly have known about Daniel?
“I know what he does to you for a hundred dollars a pop.” Lee snorted contemptuously. “Loser. Paying to get it–”
“Shut the fuck up!” Jordan screamed, completely losing control under the strain of the past weeks, and now this vicious, mystifying attack. “What the fuck would you know about it, you smug asshole.” He began to cry.
Abruptly Lee rose from the chair and came toward him. Jordan raised his arms and began to flail at him randomly, still weeping. Lee caught hold of his arms to stop his attack, enfolding him in a fierce, surprisingly strong embrace. Jordan struggled a few moments longer, then yielded and let Lee cradle him sobbing against his chest.
“I’m so sorry,” he heard Lee say. “I don’t know why I say those things. Please, I’m sorry, Camel. You were good to me. You were there when everyone else left… please.”
Just as abruptly Lee released him and was gone, footsteps fading rapidly away. Jordan sank to his knees, hiccuping with sobs, completely disoriented. When he finally was able to get up and go searching cautiously for his partner, he found him asleep on their bed.
Lee padded into the kitchen some time later as he was half-heartedly making something to eat. Jordan wheeled around warily.
The professor, however, had reverted to his usual state. He ate his meal and chatted agreeably enough. It soon became clear that he remembered nothing of the conflict that had taken place not an hour earlier.
That night Jordan lay awake, staring into space. The quarrel had deeply shaken him, not only because of Lee’s uncharacteristic malice but also certain things he had said. It was possible that sometime in the past he had told Lee Marc’s silly pet name for him–but why would he suddenly use it now? No answers came, and after tossing and turning he finally fell into a troubled sleep.
He began to feel desperate and confined at home. Conversation was impossible with this being who looked like Lee, but had none of his partner’s cultured intelligence. This person watched TV most of the time or read popular magazines, when he wasn’t running or lifting weights. His occasional energetic moods remained puzzling, though not as upsetting as that day in front of the computer.
Jordan finally decided to take some time for himself. After work one day he went to the gym and drove himself through an intense workout. The exercise failed to relieve his stress as he had hoped–he remained tense and irritable, and caught himself worrying about Lee every few minutes.
He arrived home exhausted, without having showered. He needed one badly before turning in. The bedroom was dark and Lee was asleep under the covers, his face away from the door. Hoping that he would not be wakened by the sound of the shower, he slipped past him and entered the bathroom, trying to not make too much noise as he closed the door and turned on the light.
He stripped, turned on the water and got in under the hot spray. Finally he began to relax, closing his eyes and letting his mind go blank. His cock stirred, and he gave it a couple of strokes as it rose. He hadn’t realized how horny he was. He had been too busy to see Daniel, and sex with Lee seemed out of the question as long as he was in this state…
At that moment the bathroom darkened. Startled, Jordan looked up to see a hulking, menacing shape looming on the other side of the shower curtain. Before he could react, a hand swept it aside to reveal a tall figure with one arm raised in the air, holding something cylindrical. Jordan’s mouth opened and he screamed in terror as the object descended on his body, and…
Bounced off his skin. It was a rolled-up newspaper. “Boo!” Lee cried.
Jordan’s knees buckled and he had to lean against the shower wall to keep from falling. Relief flooded through him, quickly replaced by anger. “Are you fucking crazy?” he shouted.
“No,” Lee replied gaily, “Just amnesiac.” He was dressed only in a pair of white briefs, and as irate and off-balance as Jordan was, he couldn’t help noticing that all the exercise was having an effect. Lee’s belly had shrunk and his shoulders had broadened. Jordan realized, dismayed, that his arousal was returning, made stronger by the surge of adrenalin that had shot through his body.
Lee’s smile broadened. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”
“Well, are you just going to stand there getting water all over the floor?”
In response, newspaper and briefs were quickly discarded. In an instant a naked Lee was in the shower with him, closing the curtain in one quick sweep. Jordan was flabbergasted. He couldn’t recall a time when he and Lee had showered together–or for that matter, when Lee had played a prank on him.
Lee’s arms went around Jordan. He kissed him, lifting his shorter lover in the air. Jordan found his body responding eagerly as he let his hands rove over Lee’s back. Lee put him down and knelt. The next moment Jordan gasped as his cock was surrounded by surging heat. Lee had engulfed him with a mouthful of hot water and was churning it vigorously in his cheeks. He finally released him and raised his face, grinning and squinting his eyes against the pelting spray. “Hot enough for you?”
“I’m going to shoot in about two seconds.”
Lee stood, towering over Jordan again. “Not before you get fucked.” He leered at his partner just before grabbing his shoulders and forcing him to turn toward the tiled wall. He felt Lee’s hand between his butt cheeks, applying some slippery substance, then, before he knew what was happening, the hard cylinder of his cock sliding into his rectum. Searing pain shot through him and Jordan screamed.
“Shh. Easy,” Lee whispered in his ear, one arm wrapped tightly around his body. As the worst of the hurt passed Jordan felt the invading cock begin to move slowly in and out of his stretched hole. Gradually warmth replaced the pain. His head fell back against Lee’s shoulder, his eyes closed, his mouth opened. As Lee fucked him steadily and methodically Jordan let go of the wall with one hand and began to work his own cock underneath.
“Oh yes,” he breathed, softly at first, then gradually repeating the words louder and louder until the last “Oh!” became a prolonged wail of triumph. His anal ring gripped Lee’s shaft in an ecstatic convulsion as his cock discharged its load, thick white drops trickling down the tile before being washed away. Soon he heard Lee groan. His lover pitched forward onto him, exploding in turn into his body.
They got out of the shower, dried themselves off and mopped up some of the water on the floor. Then they moved to the bed and started over again. Jordan felt the accumulated tension of the past weeks finally leave his body, consumed in the fireball of his second orgasm.
Later, their limbs loosely entwined on the bed, he stared at the ceiling, listening to Lee’s soft even breathing.
Whatever the hell was going on, it wasn’t dull. The only problem was, he wasn’t getting much work done–the work that counted, anyway. He hadn’t written any of his own stuff in weeks, not since all this had started. Jordan realized how much Lee had helped him to write, not only by reading and critiquing his work, but by treating him like someone with talent. With the person that Lee had become he was alternately playing nurse and fuck buddy. Come to think of it, his life with Marc had been about like that.
Lying there, Jordan admitted the truth–Marc never had regarded him as an intellectual equal. Lee had. Suddenly Jordan desperately missed the partner he knew. Was he gone forever?
He forced back the tears of panic that suddenly rose.
On Sunday that week he drove Lee down to a little Mexican restaurant on the main drag downtown for brunch. The narrow dining room was crowded and noisy. Lee was pleasant, vague and distant as he had usually been during the weeks since the accident. He gave no sign of remembering that he had been to the place many times before.
As they were finishing their meal, Jordan said, “Want to go to Tesoros?”
Lee started. “What’s that?”
“It’s a few doors down,” Jordan explained patiently. “They sell antiques, curios, interesting stuff from Mexico and other countries. It’s one of your favorite stores. We always go there after brunch here.”
“Really?” Lee asked, brightening a little. “That does sound nice.”
They walked into the crowded and colorful shop. Jordan began to browse, simultaneously trying to keep an eye on his partner. Things seemed okay and he relaxed a bit, becoming interested in some inlaid wooden boxes from somewhere in Asia. In a few moments someone tapped him on the shoulder. Lee was standing behind him holding a large, carved wooden statue. He couldn’t place its origin, but Jordan saw that it was obviously male-its most prominent feature was an enormous phallus.
He looked sharply at Lee. The peculiar wicked glint in his partner’s eye was back.
“What do you think? For my office at school?” Lee asked.
Jordan snorted, though he was also a bit worried. Lee had shown himself capable of almost anything when he was in this mood. “I don’t think so. Some female student will cite you for sexual harassment during office hours.”
Lee opened his mouth to make some retort, but at that moment there was a disturbance at the front of the store: a figure moving hastily toward the door, bumping into surprised and protesting customers. A man’s voice, closer to them, demanded, “Hey! Where are you going with that?” Then, the high-pitched beeping of a store security alarm.
The store clerk shouted, “Stop that guy! That stuff’s worth thousands of dollars!”
Lee put down the figure he was holding and sprinted toward the street entrance. Before Jordan could fully grasp what was happening he was out the door and after the thief. By the time Jordan got to the street himself and looked down the sidewalk, his partner was more than a block away, chasing after the vanishing figure of the shoplifter with astonishing speed, barely avoiding crashing into the people on the street that he passed.
“Lee! What the hell are you doing?” Jordan began to run after them.
Lee was gaining on the other man. He had almost caught up when the thief, still grasping his loot, reached a main thoroughfare. Even on Sunday morning the cross street was filled with traffic. Beyond, a long bridge spanned the river that ran through downtown.
The shoplifter scurried across as horns blew and brakes squealed. Somehow he got to the other side without being hit, and began to cross the bridge, staggering with fatigue but refusing to give up. With no hesitation Lee flung himself into the busy street as well. Just then Jordan saw a large dump truck speeding toward the intersection. His scream of terror was drowned by the deep blast of the horn. He saw Lee turn, his mouth fly open, his arms rise in a futile attempt to protect himself. Then the tall man’s body flew through the air as if it were a rag doll, struck the pavement with a terrible thudding sound, and lay still.
“Lee! Oh God!”
In a shorter time than he would have thought possible Jordan reached the spot where Lee had been thrown, getting there well ahead of the shouting truck driver. He knelt down, panting, half sobbing. The older man lay on his back, motionless, his clothes torn, his hair disheveled by the impact. A trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth. Jordan stared down at Lee’s face. Terror seized him as he heard the ragged breathing, saw the eyes staring unfocused into space.
“Hang in there, Lee,” Jordan urged desperately as he bent close to his wounded lover’s face. “Please–help’s on the way.” He was dimly aware that the truck driver behind him had pulled out a cell phone and was talking rapidly into it. He knew with an awful, leaden certainty that it was too late.
The man on the sidewalk, though, seemed to rally at Jordan’s words. His glassy stare disappeared as he blinked. His eyes focused on the face above and brightened with recognition. Jordan saw the lips, pale with shock, move, and strained to hear the words.
“Camel?”
Jordan nodded frantically, fighting back tears.
“You…knew it was me, didn’t you?”
He nodded again. Lee, or Marc, made a great effort and managed to smile faintly.
“So lucky…got to come back…little while.”
He had to ask. “Why, Marc?” Jordan cried. “Why did you take Lee?”
The smile disappeared, the brows furrowed. “No.” A pause. “Not me. Pure chance…had to take it.” The eyes closed, then opened again. “Unfinished business.”
“What?”
When Marc started to speak again his voice was much weaker. Heedless of the crowd that had begun to mill around them, Jordan bent until his ear was almost touching his lover’s face to hear his words.
“Treated you like shit. Tried to make it up to you. Love… you.” Jordan felt a hand grip the back of his head with surprising strength. With a supreme effort, the dying man had managed to lift one arm to embrace him. Jordan gazed again into Marc’s face. He could barely get the words out.
“I love you too…Marc.”
Marc’s voice was now a whisper. “Don’t be too long…I’ll…be waiting.” The eyes shone with an unearthly brilliance, then went blank. The hand on the back of his head relaxed its grip, the arm fell heavily to the ground.
With his last ounce of control, Jordan gently pressed his lips to his lover’s, now stilled. “Goodbye.” He bent his head over the dead man’s chest and began to sob.
A wailing siren that had been approaching during the last few moments grew to a deafening pitch, then was suddenly cut off as the EMS vehicle pulled up and stopped nearby. In a moment, strong arms pulled Jordan roughly from the body. He began to struggle to get away and his arms were pinned firmly behind him. A stranger bent over Lee’s still form and began to push rhythmically on his chest with strong thrusts. Jordan stared, appalled.
“Let me go!” he screamed. “Can’t you see he’s dead?”
The man restraining him spoke. “Take it easy,” he said, not unkindly. “We might save him yet, fella.”
Jordan ceased his struggles. Weeping, he let his body sag against the paramedic’s, giving way to his grief. He had been too scared and stupid to believe that Marc had returned to him, and now it was too late. He had lost him again, and for good this time. And Lee, good, kind Lee who had never done anyone any harm was gone too.
“I’m getting a pulse, Mike!” the paramedic on the ground shouted. “I think he’s coming back!”
As Jordan stared in disbelief, he saw the body on the ground stir. The lips moved and the man above him bent to catch the words.
“What’s he saying?” Mike, the man holding him, demanded.
“A name, maybe… Lordy? Jordy?” the paramedic looked up, puzzled.
“That’s me!” Jordan shouted, beginning to struggle again. He managed to break free, or perhaps the man released him. He ran to Lee, pushing the other paramedic out of the way. He took the other man’s face in his hands. Lee’s eyes were open, bewildered.
“Jordy? Where am I?”
The events of the last few moments, and now this new surprise, were overwhelming Jordan. With an effort he kept a grip on himself for the sake of the man who lay on the ground.
“Shh,” he whispered. “You’ve had a little accident, Lee. These men are here to help you. Everything’s going to be all right.”
The paramedic spoke urgently at his side. “We’ve got to get him to the hospital–he’s probably bleeding internally. You can ride with him.”
Hours later, Jordan was wakened in the waiting room on one of the upper floors of the hospital by a tap on his shoulder. The surgeon was a compactly built man, youthful in his close-fitting scrubs.
“Mr. Hamel? I’m Dr. Keller. Professor Hartman’s in recovery.”
Jordan forced himself to ask the question. “How…is he?”
The surgeon nodded reassuringly, though fatigue showed in the circles around his eyes. “His injuries were not as serious as they could have been. Concussion, two broken ribs, and a collapsed lung. He should make a full recovery.”
Jordan’s head began to swim with relief, and he forced himself not to sit down. “Thank God.”
“He was conscious just before we took him in–talking about being in the car with you and getting hit. I didn’t understand. It was a pedestrian-vehicle collision, wasn’t it?”
Jordan wondered how much of their situation he should explain. “He and I… were involved in another accident about six weeks ago. It caused amnesia. It sounds like he doesn’t remember anything that happened between then and now.”
“I see. Interesting.” The doctor’s eyes were sharp, curious. “I understand he is your partner. How have you managed?”
“It’s been a bit strange.” Just how strange, Jordan had no intention of describing. Even saying it to himself it sounded insane. Could Marc really have returned from the dead after the first accident? And now, had Marc gone, and Lee come back? He managed to say to the surgeon, who was still looking intently at him, “At times he seemed to think he was someone else.”
“Well,” Keller said, “Personality changes aren’t uncommon in cases of head injury. I hope this is the end of your friend’s streak of bad luck. We’ll have to watch him closely for a while. Got to make sure there are no long-term effects from two hard knocks coming so close together.” He grasped Jordan’s arm. “He probably won’t be able to talk until the morning. Why don’t you go home and get some sleep?”
“I don’t understand,” Lee said one evening a few days later. He was propped up with pillows in his hospital bed. Although his head was bandaged and a tube was in his nose, Jordan thought he looked remarkably good considering what he had been through. “The car accident was six weeks ago?”
Jordan nodded.
“But, I wasn’t in a coma? I was conscious?”
“Yes. You were all right, except you had no memory.”
“And now I don’t remember those six weeks.” Lee shook his head slowly. “I can’t believe it.” He looked at Jordan with the ghost of a smile. “Must have been quite a time for you, Jordy.”
Not knowing exactly what to say, Jordan nodded.
“You’ll have to tell me all about it,” Lee said. “I can tell some weird things must have gone on. Who shaved my beard?”
“You did.”
Lee stroked his chin. “I can’t remember when I haven’t had one. And I’m so skinny. Was I not eating much?”
“You wanted to lose weight. You worked out like a maniac.”
“Well, all of this did some good, then.” Lee reached out and patted Jordan’s hand. “Poor Jordy. You must have been worried sick.”
Jordan gazed steadily at his partner. “I wondered what we’d do if your memory never came back. But, besides that, it wasn’t so bad, Lee. You weren’t hard to take care of. Even kind of fun, sometimes.”
“And I’m not, usually, am I?” Lee said, sad comprehension in his eyes. “Did we–sleep together?”
Jordan rolled his eyes to the ceiling and laughed before he could stop himself. “Ooh boy, did we ever.”
He saw that Lee was looking at him, stricken. Some obscure anger in him kept him talking. “We had the best sex we’ve had in years. And you don’t remember one second of it.”
Lee was silent, staring straight in front, eyes glistening. Then he turned to Jordan and spoke. “Are you sorry I’m back to normal, Jordy?”
Silence hung heavy between them. Finally Jordan shook his head slowly. “No, of course not, Lee. But… you’ve been so down on me sometimes. Well, the last few weeks… it was the best of both worlds. Here I was, still with you… but it was like being with someone else. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it a little.”
“So…” Lee swallowed. “Does this mean you’d rather be with someone else?”
Jordan found he could answer with complete confidence. “No, absolutely not.”
Lee said, morosely, “It’s been hard, knowing how much you loved Marc. I know I’ll never measure up to him in your mind.”
Jordan forced the lump down in his throat. “Marc’s gone. You’re here with me. I want us to be together always, Lee. I promise I’ll do better.”
Lee closed his eyes, nodding. “I promise too.”
Jordan stood, bent down and kissed his lips. “I’ll stop by on the way to work. See you in the morning.”
He drove home, lost in thought. Doors were closing, doors were opening in his life with bewildering speed. All in all, after the tumult of the last few months, he was looking forward to some peace and quiet.
And yet, a small yearning voice inside wondered if this was the end of his adventures…
He got home and walked into the office, which was strangely silent. Hadn’t he left the computer running? It was certainly off now. When he punched the startup button the machine blinked on willingly enough. Impatiently he waited until he could boot up his e-mail program. He clicked on the “check mail” button, then stared, nonplused, at the screen.
His “saved mail” box was completely blank. Someone, or something, had erased everything in it, including, of course, the mysterious ones from marcmoss.
Jordan somehow knew that, even if he took the machine to a tech support specialist and had them run a recovery program, they would never find those e-mails again.
When he searched the rest of the hard drive, he was not surprised to find that the image file that had been attached to the second message, the image of Marc at the lake, was gone too. So that was that. Even if he told the tale to someone, he would have no evidence to back it up. Maybe it was just as well.
He heaved a sigh. This damn thing was going back tomorrow. And they’d better not hassle him about the warranty.
Jordan had some other unfinished business to take care of. A few days later, while Lee was still in the hospital, he called Daniel. There was a long pause on the line after he haltingly explained that he was discontinuing their sessions.
“Well,” Daniel finally said slowly, “I appreciate you calling, Jordan. You sure you don’t want one last massage?”
Familiar guilt enveloped Jordan as he thought of Lee, largely recovered and protesting against his continued confinement. Yet he found he couldn’t quite cut himself off from Daniel without seeing him again. “Okay, if it’s only a massage.”
Daniel chuckled. “As I always say, whatever you want.”
“It’s my partner, Lee,” Jordan tried to explain as he lay on the massage table afterward.
“It’s usually the partner with you married men,” Daniel said dryly. He added, “You don’t owe me any explanation, Jordan.”
“I know, but–” How could he say what he felt? The fact was he had become attached to the handsome blond who was more than just a hustler, as he had so rudely called him that first time. “I’ll miss you, Daniel.”
Something flickered across the other man’s face. “You really are sweet.” He added, with a trace of wryness, “Any last requests before you go?”
Jordan thought a moment. “I’d like to see that gorgeous bod one more time. I won’t touch, though.”
In response, Daniel pulled off the dark blue tank top he always wore during their sessions, then undid the drawstring of his sweatpants and let them drop to the floor. He stood naked, gazing at Jordan, unconsciously striking a pose as he shifted his weight onto one hip, a hand cradling his cock and balls.
Jordan looked at the sculpted body for long moments, then raised his eyes to Daniel’s face. He sighed and shook his head. “You really are something. Thanks for everything.”
Daniel smiled, his eyes shining. “I wish you all the best, Jordan. Oh and by the way, this one’s on the house.”
EPILOGUE
It was summer, and still hot in the early evening. Jordan entered the house, welcoming the cool air that hit him in the face. “Lee?” he called. There was no reply, though the professor’s car was parked in the driveway. Maybe he’s out jogging, the fool, Jordan thought, shaking his head affectionately.
The events of the past months had left surprising remnants in their lives–Lee’s exercise program, for one. He had said to Jordan a few days after returning from the hospital, “You know, I rather like this new me. I feel better than I have in years,” and had surprised Jordan by resuming the running and weight training as soon as he was able. Lee looked years younger, clean-shaven and with muscles re-emerging on his newly svelte body. His older partner’s appearance and energy were doing wonders for their sex life. Jordan had even thought Lee might enjoy a joint session with Daniel, but hadn’t quite worked up the nerve to suggest such a thing.
In the distance he heard the sound of splashing water. Lee must be taking a swim in their pool. Jordan looked out the window by the back door and stared in surprise. Who was that buffed man in the bright red Speedo? The muscles in the back and broad shoulders rippled, accentuated by the sparkle of wet skin, as whoever it was hoisted himself out of the water. In the next moment, Jordan blinked. It was Lee, of course. For a moment he had almost believed that Marc had returned once more, dressed in his favorite swimwear.
Jordan opened the back door and stepped out. Lee turned and smiled, his hands on his hips, holding his goggles. “Skipped the jog, it was too hot. Decided to do laps instead.”
“New suit?” While he hadn’t been looking, his sedate lover had turned into Charles Atlas. Jordan was aware of his quickened breathing and a familiar heat rising in his lower body.
Lee looked down at himself, coloring slightly. “Yeah. I don’t know what got into me. I was looking at new running shoes, and somehow ended up buying this instead. Is it too outrageous?”
Jordan shook his head as he walked forward. “You got it, now flaunt it.” He stopped in front of Lee, and smiled into his eyes. “You look damn hot, professor.”
Lee smiled and said nothing, but Jordan noted the bulge in the front of his scanty trunks.
Raising his voice in a high-pitched falsetto, affecting a fake Southern drawl, Jordan whined, “Oh, Dr. Hartman, I’ll do anything to pass this class.”
A wicked grin appeared on Lee’s face, and Jordan was startled again, once more reminded of Marc, his teasing, infuriating charm. Lee raised his eyebrows. “Anything?” he demanded in a mock-threatening tone.
“Anything,” Jordan said softly, staring into the face before him, dropping all pretense.
Lee took his face in his hands and kissed him, hard and deep. Jordan dropped to his knees on the pool deck, pulling at the wet red nylon to claim his prize. Pure contentment rose in him as he took Lee’s cock into his mouth.
“Get naked and get in the water,” his lover’s husky voice said.
Later the new Speedo lay forgotten in a sodden heap on the concrete, next to the deck chair where Lee had fucked him until they were both exhausted.
The following day Jordan left work a few minutes early and stopped by the park where he and Marc Moss had first met. He parked his car and began to walk into the woods, down the path they had followed, until he emerged into the clearing where the stone cabin still stood.
He had not been here since a few days after Marc’s death. At that time he had been carrying a small cardboard box containing his ashes, and had scattered some on the stone deck that had been the scene of their first, fervent lovemaking.
After making sure no one was at the campsite, Jordan descended the stone steps and reached the deck. The space was as cool and dark as he remembered it. He stood facing the woods behind the cabin, lost in thought.
His lost lover had come back to take care of unfinished business. Now he was gone again, but he had left something of himself behind, a gift to him and to Lee.
Thank you, Marc, wherever you are.
He stood a moment longer, then climbed the steps back to the clearing.
END