Poz Mate

[Toon]

1980

It's funny and a little depressing to think back at the time when I was so sure I wanted to be a newspaper reporter. I guess I could blame an old TV show called "Lou Grant". I was a little gay teen who had a confusing crush on a news reporter named "Rossi". I didn't know I wanted to go to bed with him back then, I just knew I wanted to sit behind a typewriter and compose copy about late-breaking stories. It's exactly what I wanted to do. Troy wanted to be a sports broadcaster, Shane wanted to be an actor and Karletta was going to have her own beauty salon. We were all 14 and the future seemed so close yet so infuriatingly far away.

1986

I never thought about any other line of work. Journalism. That was decided and I was in college now. The future kept coming faster and faster. I took all the classes I was supposed to. It would be at least two years before I could apply to work on the campus newspaper, but I imagined it constantly. Our school was pretty big and the campus paper had gained some prestige. I read it all -- except for the sports stuff or anything about frats and sororities. There was a lot of controversy about using university funds to supply us with free condoms. I knew about AIDS, and I knew it was mostly a gay sex disease that had no cure. I read it all with a detached interest. I knew I was gay, but had no idea if I'd ever do the butt sex stuff. Not anytime soon.

I lived close to my parents and usually visited a few times a month. I did laundry and ate as much of Mom's home-cooking as I could. She always sent me home with food, little gifts and all their old magazines. My favorite was "Smithsonian". There was one issue with a feature about an AIDS activist in London. His name was Ian Furmedge and he was on the European forefront of raising funds for cures and treatments. He had the disease. One whole page was a black and white photograph of him where he was sitting at an antique wood table in his pajamas. He was thin, had a dark beard and his feet were bare. There was a window behind him. The shadows only complimented his thin, handsome face. I read that article so many times, always looking back at the photo. I needed to write him, but how? The only phone number I had was for the subscription department. They'd have no idea. I ended up just addressing a short note to him in care of the Smithsonian's address. It basically just said that I admired his work and also his photo. I thanked him for his efforts.

College was hard - mainly because nobody made you do anything. If you failed, too bad. Nobody was there to keep you on the straight and narrow. I was not the most disciplined person back then. I just plugged along. I'd bought a nice frame for Ian's photograph and kept it on my desk so I could look at it all the time. My stoner roommate noticed it once and asked me who it was. "Who's that?"

"My dad." He probably wasn't old enough to be my dad, but I was not an expert liar back then.

"Really? You don't look anything like him. Is he sick?"

"No. Just skinny."

"Big feet. Huh. He just doesn't look like a dad." He wandered away in his own private haze.

I'm pretty sure I had just failed my German 101 test. I hated that class, but journalism majors had to take eight credit hours of a foreign language. I wanted to just cry at how badly I was doing in that class. Back at the dorm, I checked to see if I had any mail. The slot was usually empty excepts for some little greeting card from Mom or credit card applications for my roommate. Any company that offered that moron credit deserved to go bankrupt. But today I got an actual envelope with an actual handwritten letter in it. It was from overseas! From Ian! Holy Shit! My heart raced. I was alone in the elevator with the prize in my hand. I sniffed the envelope for some reason. It just smelled like mail. 

Dear Bradley,

Cheers from Eaton! Thanks so much for your very nice note. It's the only piece of fan mail I've ever gotten! I wish I liked that story as much as you did. It seemed a bit scattered to me. I'm pleased you enjoyed the photograph of me. I never like how I look on camera. Might I see a picture of you? Are you liking University? Is it stressful? 

I was born in Argentina and actually lived in the states for some years. New Mexico. I've never been to Denver. Is it quite beautiful there? I picture mountains and snow when I hear "Colorado". I'd very much like to visit there. There's a "World Health" conference in Boulder, CO in the Summer. I'm obliged to attend. Perhaps I'll see you there???

My health is improving at this time, and thank you for asking. I'm taking some new herbal pills from China. It might be all bollocks, but I feel much invigorated. It's good timing because I'm always busy. Are you active in campus AIDS causes? I wish to inspire you to do so if you aren't already engaged in that. It takes some courage, but it's so critical. 

Please do post me again. I want to know more about you. I picture you at the library, reading and studying. 

Always, Ian

I don't think I took a single breath as I read it all. I hadn't even taken the backpack off my shoulder. I'd opened the envelope so carefully that the seal was intact. His tongue had licked it and I kissed every inch. Stupid and out of character for me. I supposed I was a teen-aged girl now.

My Dearst Bradley,

So surprised to get such a fast reply! Firstly, I loved the photo you included! So dashing...and so young. You're wearing a coat and tie -- was this a special occasion of some kind? I'm guessing you are 19 or 20. Yes? I'm 41. I probably look older nowadays but no gray hair as of yet. There is wisdom in that face of yours...as well as a bit of trouble. Pardon my query, but have you suffered a loss? Mate, we all wear our pain on a daily basis. Feel free to tell me anything as I am the most excellent listener/reader. Speaking of which -- would you ever imagine calling me? I know it is probably a bit dear to call such a distance, but it can wait a bit. I'm six hours ahead of you...which makes me a bit of a time-traveler (ha). I can tell you that future is fine and looking better each day. 

To answer your questions: 1. My favorite movie is 'The Maltese Falcon" 2. I listen to mostly classical music, but I do enjoy some pop songs 3. I'm not in a relationship right now. I just don't have the time at present. How about you? Are you with someone? He or she is very blessed indeed.

I urge you again to contribute to your university's AIDS programs. Time is almost as valuable as money. It must be difficult to find spare time with your studies. Just try and accept that you are challenged by foreign language. Don't try to be the class prize in German class. Just do enough to pass (I predict you'll get a 'B' or better). Try absorbing the language willingly...without frustration or resentment. Anger and fear are harmful. 

More photos of me? Surely. I can send the outtakes from The Smithsonian shoot. Or would you something a bit more personal? I am not afraid to share.

I'm thinking of you. Luv. I wonder what you are doing and wearing whenever I get a spare moment (not often enough!!)

A kiss, Ian

That night I called the campus hotline and asked about volunteer programs. The nice girl told me there were only millions of them.

"What about 'AIDS prevention'? Or fundraising?"

"Oh. Um... lots. Do you want something 'gay specific' or does that matter?"

"Gay." I swallowed audibly.

She didn't seem the least bit rattled. "Try calling GLSOC. They will help direct you to where the most resources are needed. Got a pen? Here's the number: --- -----. If you're on campus, you only have to dial the last four numbers."

"Thank you."

"No problem. Anything else?"

"No. Good night."

My Bradley,

Such an uplifting letter from you! The photos stiffened me up nicely -- for a whole day!! I take it you took those in a mirror? Yes? I have the lot of them on my nightstand. You didn't show your willy, but I could picture it well enough from the outline in your skivvies. Quite nice! I am including some of my own. I'm a bit more furry than you. Hope you like them anyway. I know a bloke who works as a photographer. He will print any kind of XXX request you have. I am not pretty, but also not modest. I am here for you to see!

I'm happy you went and signed-up with a program. It can make you feel vulnerable to hand out condoms and literature eight there in the open. You're right -- people will assume things about you. Swallow that and stuff it way down. It is worth the effort! We can make a difference, mate. 

I'm also pleased that you got an 'A' on your German vocabulary test. Congratulations, old bean! I knew you could do it, So funny how I once tried to inspire you and then you've gone and inspired me. Good luck on your final exams. Take care of yourself and get plenty of rest. 

Love, Ian

I looked at each photo ten times. He was mostly in some stage of undress, but never completely nude. He was indeed a hairy man, which I guess I'd always kinda figured. A majority of them were taken somewhere tropical - a resort I'd guess. He wasn't quite so thin whenever these shots were taken. I wondered how I'd ever not think of these images all day, every day.

In addition to my preparation for finals, I was also handing out condoms and manning the phone at the Help Line. German was going better after I'd taken Ian's advice. I stopped fighting this ugly language and just let it soak in. My trouble now was getting through a book called "Out of Africa". It was just so dry and so boring. Our final was going to be a surprise question which we would have two hours to complete. Themes, symbolism, etc. were all on the table. I'd read it twice and hope for the best. 

Sweet Man,

Happy Christmas, Love! I hope you enjoy the season with your family. It must be a relief to be done with exams. I barely remember 'Out of Africa', but you were quite correct to zero in the underlying themes of mourning and purity. I gather you've got a brain in that skull of yours. Ha. I always knew that. 

Thank you for all the nice words about my photographs. You made me blush a deep scarlet!! To answer a few of your queries: 1. I am still doing well. There is a new pill I've been given that has a kick to it. We shall see. 2. Yes, I got a flu shot. Because of my condition, I am usually first in line for the vaccine. 3. The photos were taken in Greece a few years ago. 4. I wear a UK size 14 shoe. I believe that would be a 15 in the US. 5. I spend Christmas with my mum. She's a real plum and you'd like her. 

Alrighty then. I need to hear your voice so badly. Will you call ring me? Remember the time difference and call during your early afternoon. Or later. Or any hour. I'll leave you my home number and also my mum's in case you want to call during Christmas. I would love that so much. 

I love you, mate!, Ian

It was nice to have time off from school. I'd been reading, studying and taking tests for so long. Would it ever end? My mom and dad treated me like a prince while I was home. I'd made the dean's list which surprised all of us. I'd been a very average student in high school. I'd missed sleeping in my old room..with our giant gray cat sleeping on my chest as I read old comic books late into the night. I ate and ate some more during my visit. One of the guys on my AIDS crisis team was spreading the message that gaining weight was important for being healthy. "Get Fat, Stay Alive" was his slogan. I wasn't sure that was the solution, but it wouldn't hurt to look beefy and ruddy while the plague invaded full force that year. 

"I wish you'd eaten like this when you were a kid," Mom noted. You need some extra pounds. Wish I could donate some of mine." 

The day before Christmas Eve, I told them I was doing volunteer work and that it involved global health and population control. 

My dad approved because it would look good to potential employers. Mom was just happy that I was coming out of my shell and being altruistic. Lying was become easier now.

"I may get a grant to do outreach in London." 

"Oh my! Your passport is still in my dresser drawer. Take it with you when you go back next month. It's all up to date."

"I may need to call them while I'm here. Can I do it from here?"

"Call overseas? Well...." She looked at my dad. "Let's let Brad look in his stocking now."

Inside the stocking (which smelled like our attic) was candy, a new Weird Al cassette tape, two twenty dollar bills and three MCI calling cards. So perfect! I couldn't wait to use them!

"We switched to MCI a few months ago," Dad informed me. "It's going to kick AT&T's ass eventually which is why I bought some of their stock. You gotta get in early on emerging technology. 

"Thank you both so much! I am without proper words right now." I'd unknowingly started talking like Ian.

"I need to rest now. I'll let you two men stay up and talk...but not too late. We have a big day tomorrow." Mom toddled off to bed while Dad and I sat at the kitchen table. He and I had been through some rough patches when I was a teen. I once went a month without saying a single word to him.

"How about we have some eggnog, Son?" I nodded as he fetched two glasses and a bottle of Jack Daniels. No nog. Having a real adult drink with my father?...sure. 

"You think the Broncos will do anything in the play-offs? I am always a little pessimistic." We had that in common.

"I don't know. Dad? I'm sorry I was such a shit when I was in high school."

"That's all in the past. You make me proud, always have. It was my fault too. How's your eggnog?"

It was just plain whiskey but I was game. It burned my throat and landed like a bomb in my stomach. OK. I guess this what adult men did. 

"Is it still snowing?"

"I guess. I hope it keeps going -- so we don't have to go to midnight mass tomorrow night. I suppose you still don't believe in God? Your mother and I accept that. We will always love you -- no matter what." I had a feeling he'd been nogging already.

"I've always known that, Dad." We had a few more drinks before he scooted me off to bed. I slept like a rock.

Morning came fast. I smelled breakfast wafting up the stairs. I opened my eyes and saw that snow was still falling outside my window. Nice. Mom knocked on my door and then came right in. "Wake up, Sweetness! The mail came already and there's a Christmas card for you. It's from England! 

Season's greetings! I managed to find your home address at the library. They have phone books from all over the world. I hope it's okay to mail you there. I am just missing you now and always. I am finishing up some end-of the-year things before heading to Mum's. Do let your mother take plenty of pictures of you...and send me a few. I anticipate a call from you soon.  

Love, Ian. 

I was ecstatic. If the weather let up a bit, I'd have the house to myself tonight when everyone went to mass. I was going to call. I was.

The day went by uneventfully. My sister was snowed in at the Boston airport and couldn't make it home. I was guiltily happy about that. She was five years older than me and had always been a bitch. I wouldn't miss her. Ever. 

Mom made a quick run to the grocery store while my dad and I sat in the living room and had more whiskey. 

"Can I ask you something, Brad?"

"Is it what I think you're going to ask?"

"Probably. I guess I don't have to bother with the question now, do I? Let's have another snort."

"I'm gay and I've been that way since I could form thoughts. I'm not sexually active."

"I don't care if you have sex, Son. Your mother and I were fucking before either of us were out of high school...just be careful. Was that card you got from someone special?" 

"He's very special, but he and I have never met. He..." I ran out of words. Ian. 

Mom came home with last-minute stuff from the grocery store. "It smells like a bar in here.  What have my two boys been up to?" She grinned. Nobody is in a bad mood on Christmas Eve. "Look at the time! We're not having turkey this year. I'm broiling t-bones instead. The roads aren't bad at all -- I've driven in much worse." 

"So I guess we're going to Mass then? I hope they don't do a live nativity again."

"Oh just go watch a sports game on TV while I get dinner going. Take your booze with you."

There was some bowl game on. I hadn't paid attention to any sports except for The World Series. I was always studying, volunteering or thinking of Ian. Or else writing him. Dad and I had never bonded over a game on TV.

"Oh hell...who cares about The Pringles Bowl or whatever this is? It's all about TV money." The smells of cooking drifted into the living room. Dad and had more sips of whiskey. "We should watch a Christmas movie. You think? I'll find one somewhere." He landed on some made-for-TV movie with a very holiday feel. 

We ate and it was nice. I had a nice buzz going so I didn't touch the glass of wine Mom had poured. They left for Mass around 10 PM and I went to my room and listened to the Weird Al tape. I had outgrown him, but what the hell...all my good music was back at school. I read a "Reader's Digest" I'd found in the bathroom. Dad usually talked my mom into going somewhere for a drink after the service, and I knew I'd be asleep by the time they got home. 

I had a dream about swimming in the ocean where all the sea creatures were rising up to the surface and speaking to me with English accents. I don't remember what they said. I snapped awake at 4:10 AM. I'd left the lamp on. I was so clearly awake. Ian and I were both awake on Christmas day. I needed to call him. BADLY. Deep breath. I fished out one of the MCI cards, Ian's phone number, and a photocopy of Ian's photo. 

"Hello?," a woman answered.

"Good morning. May I please speak with Ian? Is he awake?" 

"I should say so! We've had breakfast already and opened gifts. Are you the American lad he talked about?"

"I'm Bradley."

"Yes! I was almost ready to say 'Bobby'. I'm a loon." 

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Furmedge."

"Hush that. I'm Dee. Oh...here he comes. It was nice speaking with you."

"Yes? Is this Bradley?"

"Merry Christmas, Ian. Thank you for the card."

"I'm hardly believing this! You called! You sound exactly as I thought you might. How do I sound?"

"Perfect." He laughed, coughed.

"It must be quite early there."

"Yes. My parents are still sleeping. Ian? It is so good to talk to you, but I'm suddenly at a loss of things to say."

"Me too. Let's take about a twenty minute break and think of things to ask each other. Can I ring you back without waking the whole house?"

"Yes. I have my own phone in my room. The number is --- --- -----." 

"Lovely. I will talk to you in a bit."

I crept out of my room and went downstairs. The whiskey bottle was still there, next to the remote. That's exactly the kind of inspiration I needed. I took it to my room and sat at my desk.I dug out an old notebook and some pens. Even after a few shots, I couldn't come up with too much. I turned my radio on , hoping to find something besides Christmas music. 105 Hit Radio was doing top 40 business as usual. It didn't help too much. The phone rang. 

"Hello? Ian?"

"I've not much luck, mate. We don't have to put so much pressure on this conversation. I've been meaning to ask you one thing for a while now...how long have you lived with HIV?"

OH SHIT! He'd assumed this whole time that we shared the same virus! I needed to think fast. "A little less than a year." 

"Sorry, Luv. Still in shock, are we? Well  -- you're handling it in a very healthy way. Activism is a form of therapy...at least for me it is."

"Yes. Exactly."

"I've some news that might cheer you up. Remember how I told you I had a photographer friend? He snapped a whole roll of nude pictures of me. I thought they looked quite artful. They're waiting for you back at your university address. I don't even know if it's legal to send such materials overseas, but it's done. I also sent you some literature about this Summer's conference in Boulder. It could be our chance to meet. Think you can come?"

"I've already looked into it and checked with my supervisor at Outreach. She's going to fund it. She might go with me, but she's so cool. She's like Cyndi Laupner if she gained about 70 pounds."

"You been having some drinks, Bradley?"

"Yeah. A few. It's the holidays. Why?"

"I can hear grain alcohol in your voice. It's not the best thing for your immune system, but it's allowed from time to time. One more thing... Can we arrange to stay in the same hotel? I'd like to make love to you."

I finished a few more quick gulps from the bottle. "I...I think I'd like that so much. I've had a crush on you since I read the magazine article."

"I hope it lasts until June."

"I guarantee it will."

"I should let you go to sleep, Bradley. Have a very Merry Christmas. I love you." CLICK

I wondered how in the hell I was supposed to sleep now. I found an old paperback on my bookshelf that I opened and started to reread. "Love"?  I'd just told a huge fib to a man who claimed to love me. I was on the spot. If he knew I was HIV-, there'd be no sex. I could not let that chance get away. I dozed off for what seemed like a minute, but daylight had crept into my room when I opened my eyes. Mom just burst into my room without knocking (some things haven't changed) and demanded I get up. "Come see what Santa brought you!" I would never be an adult in her eyes. Not ever.

After gifts were opened and a big brunch eaten, we all wiped our brows and felt the relief mixed with melancholy that comes when Christmas is finally over. We lounged around the TV and watched one of those sleepy old movies from the 40's. More fake snow, sappy dialog and at least two covered bridges. Where'd all those structures go?

"Supposed to be nice weather this week, but a big Winter storm is moving in on New Year's Day. When do you have to get back?" Dad had a fresh bottle of Wild Turkey that' he'd just opened. 

"I'm supposed to man a counseling hot line on New Year's Eve. Not many volunteers on campus until January 9th."

"You counsel people? You're qualified?"

"Yep. I took 20 hours of training, but mainly callers just need somebody to talk to."

"Maybe I'll call it sometime."

"You can talk now, Pops. Mom went up to take a nap."

"Nah. Well... No. I'm fine."

I was relieved he didn't start spilling out tearful confessions. We had a few drinks, but I insisted on mixing the alcohol with Pepsi. I was one of the few guys in my dorm who didn't drink or party with any other substance. My mom's father was a major alcoholic and it made me wary of my genetics. I'd just drink with Dad while I was home. I was usually too busy for numbness.

The weather forecast did indeed look grim for January 1st. Record cold, record snow, high winds. I left on the 30th because I was eager to get back to the dorm and see if Ian's photos had arrived yet. It's not like I didn't visit home every other week. Mom loaded me up with brownies and other snacks. It was a short drive, but I gave Weird Al's tape another chance. Nope. I'm sure my roommate would appreciate it more than I did. The dorm was desolate and quiet as a tomb. The chubby girl at the front desk welcomed me when I approached to retrieve my mail. She had a Santa hat on that was meant to be whimsical, but mainly just looked retarded. There were two letters from Ian as well as a large manila envelope that I knew was full of photos. I'd save that one for last. 

Dear Bradley:

I guess this will arrive after you've already left for vacation. I just wished to write you since I'm thinking so much about you, us. Am I moving too fast? I feel so good these days and it's all thanks to you. I hope we will talk on the telephone soon. I have a need to be intimate with you. Do you feel the same? I'm not sure how long of a life I'll have, but I intend to do as much as I can with the time left. 

I bet your finals went well. I'm sure they did.

Love, Ian

The second piece of mail was a greeting card. The cover was a goofy illustration of a teddy bear with a a heart-shaped patch on his stomach. It looked like something my mom would send.

Cheers! I know this is a bit silly, but the little plush toy looks exactly how you make me feel -- warm, happy and a bit chubby. I've gained some weight back since Fall, and can wear my old jeans again without fear of them falling down. My doctor will be pleased. Thank you! I love you!

Ian

OK. Time to see the photos. Dear God!! He was a tall, furry dream come true. So many nude poses with his big, fat dick in various stages of hardness. Every single thing about him was perfect. I looked at each of them ten or eleven times before putting them back in the envelope and putting them under my bed. It was too late to call Ian now because I knew he'd be asleep. I called the GLSOC office just to see if anyone was there. Dan was. 

"Hi. It's Brad. I'm back. Need some help?"

"Yeah, Bring me something from Arby's -- I'll pay you back. You can come keep me company until Shawna gets here."

I had nothing else to do. So I went and took him food. Dan was a good guy, but a tad too intense at times...and so political. Conversations with him could wear me out. I stayed and listened to his chatter for awhile before finally leaving. My roommate came back a few says later and then classes were soon underway. It was work as usual, but this time I was more disciplined, more focused. Time flew by.

Shawna had made all the arrangements for the conference. "Dan doesn't want to go, so you'll have a room to yourself. We both will. I'll print out an itinerary for you soon. I assume Ian already has arrangements since he's one of the speakers." She watched me carefully. "You fancy him, don't you?" 

"I admire him, Shawna. He inspired me to join the cause."

"Whatever you say, Brad. Just remember what we're trying to do here."

It was an insanely beautiful Spring...not that I had a whole lot of time to appreciate it. Finals were looming and I was more than prepared. I called Ian a few more times and told him how much I was looking forward to meeting him in person. It was often early in the morning when I reached him, and he usually made the comment he still had his 'A.M. stiffy' and would I mind if he whacked off while we chatted. I never minded but explained my living situation and how the roommate could barge in at any time. "Just talk to me...." I talked about how beautiful his dick was and much I wanted to feel it and taste it. It never took him long to grunt and  finish. "My loads are huge these days. Perhaps there's more to Eastern medicine than I thought."

"I can't to see that in person. Did you get a copy of my itinerary?"

"I did. Thank you. Can you fetch me from the airport?"

"Of course! There's no sense in you renting a car since it's so close to the hotel."

"Thanks, mate. I can use that part of the budget to take us out for a nice dinner."

I couldn't wait for June 10th to get here...and then it was here! Shawna and I took separate cars since I was going to the airport first. "I'm in room 762. Come find me when you get there. I want to meet Ian...if the two of you aren't too 'occupied'." She knew, somehow. 

The airport was fairly new and heavily subsidized by companies that had laid claim to all the restaurants, bars and shops. It was, however, easy to navigate and I got to Ian's gate an hour early. Those were the days when you could just walk right in with no security checks. I had a Stephen King paperback and plenty of time to calm my nerves and read. His flight arrived early and I stood up from my chair. 

I'm pretty sure I'd lost the ability to breath or blink. There He was! I was caught off-guard by the fact that he was walking with a cane. Eh -- who knows when and how things could flare up with AIDS? He saw me and smiled brightly. I couldn't help but run up and hug him. "Welcome!"

"You should have seen your face -- it was like a beacon! A bright and shining beacon!" Our embrace lasted a long time because neither of us wanted it to end. 

"Let's get your bags...it's this way."

"My doctor advised me to bring the cane because the altitude here is so high. Tall blokes like me could pass out very easily in environments like this. I've even brought little cans of oxygen, the same kind climbers use on Everest."

The drive was short and scenic.I kept asking him if he could breathe okay and he finally demanded I stop the queries. "I'm fine, Bradley. Just being with you makes me stronger. It's so beautiful here. How do you get anything done without being distracted by all of this?"

"You can look at the mountains from my parents' backyard. I used to stay out at night and try to watch for UFOs."

We arrived at The Embassy Suites and parked. I carried both our bags to the lobby. I insisted Ian check in first so he could then sit down a bit. He had a giant suite on the top floor while my more modest room was on 5. "Let me rest for a bit and then I'll come get you. 501? Yes. It's been a long trip." He was helped with his bags from somebody on staff. I was too wired to sleep or even read my book. I'd just go see if Shawna was here yet.

"Brad! Good to see you! Isn't this place nice? Why is your face all red?"

"I'm out of shape and had to carry all my own bags."

"Uh huh. Is Ian here?"

"Yep. He's taking a nap now."

"Let's hit the mini-bar. It's nice to have an expense account...I feel like I'm important."

We each had a little bottle of vodka and relaxed.

"What time did you get here?"

"11 this morning. I wanted to get in as much time to prepare for tomorrow as I could. I'm not a main speaker, but I'm doing some of the introductions. I've gone over my notes a million times...and I still need to find the correct pronunciation of some of these names...especially the African ones."

"You'll do great. You have a way of taking over a room and owning it."

"Aren't you a doll. Want another drink? You can have anything but the wine...I'm saving that in case I meet some nice lady who likes chubby girls. My hopes aren't real high because it's almost all men here. Cute ones too. There's another vodka in there, but I think it's citrus-flavored. You mind that?"

We drank a little more and watched a baseball game. I wondered if Ian was awake by now. I'd head back to my room and wait. The phone was ringing  as I unlocked the door. 

"Hello?"

"I had a wonderful rest, but now I'm famished. Care for an early dinner?"

"Sure. Want to meet in my room, your room or down at the bar?"

"I'm not dressed. Give me about thirty minutes to shower and get ready. OK? I'll meet you at the pub."

"Sure."

I'd just had a shower four or five hours ago, so I picked out something to change into. My clothes were mostly boring, but I'd upped my fashion game a little in anticipation of the conference...and Ian. I was ready in fifteen minutes. I went down to the restaurant and sat at the bar. It was too early for dinner so the place was deserted. The bartender was a young ginger guy who looked too young to serve alcohol. And yet he carded me. I wasn't old enough to buy a well drink so I just got a beer. I'd barely finished it when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Ian! 

"Looks like we had the same idea. I thought I'd get here first and have a drink while waiting. I never drink, but I am letting go on this trip. Even had a scotch or two on the flight."

"You look great!"

"As do you, mate. You look good in that color, and not many men are complimented by green." 

"it's only 5. I don't think they're seating people for dinner yet. Are you still hungry?"

"Near starvation."

"Well...we can get an appetizer and eat here."

The bar menu was a complete mystery to Ian. "What on Earth are 'Loaded Potato Skins'?"

"It's like pieces of baked potato with all kinds of stuff on top...cheese, bacon, green onions and sour cream."

He looked doubtful. "Sounds very American. Let's get that!" We ordered and the bartender brought us another round of drinks.

"It's probably going to be good. This is a four-star restaurant."

"So tell me things, Bradley. Do you still believe in UFOs? I was a little tyke when we lived in New Mexico, and I remember so many tourists coming to look for aliens."

"I pretty much don't believe in anything any more."

"What about love?"

"Yes. Because that is a real thing." We clinked our drinks. His smile was so beautiful. Our appetizer arrived and it was way too much food. Luckily, Ian loved them. For such a thin guy, he ate fast.

"A bit salty, but I like it." I had exactly two of them before deciding I was too stuffed to eat a full dinner. 

"Yummy. Want another plate?"

"No. I'm full."

"Yeah. Me too. Why don't we sit here for a while and charm the barkeep. See which of us he fancies more." Well of course it would be him. It was. He sweet-talked the boy into serving me scotch as well. It was not unlike the whiskey Dad and I had shared. 

"We need to have a proper meal here sometime. It's kind of famous in the area. Hey - where's your cane?"

"Left it in the room. I guess you'll have to let me lean on you if I get dizzy on the way back."

"Can't wait."

"Can't you now? One more drink and we'll go."

As promised, Ian wrapped an arm around my shoulders as we got on the elevator. It was a long trip to the 10th floor and we locked lips the whole ride. He was an expert kisser and I never wanted to stop. Ding. We were here. His suite was very, very nice. All I'd ever wanted was about to happen. He shucked off his comically-long loafers and invited me to sit. He pulled out a can of compressed oxygen and inhaled.

"Feeling light-headed?"

"You could say that. Shed your clothes, Bradley. Relax and turn on the telly if you want."

I got completely nude and couldn't help but notice how pale my body was. Ian stripped down and stood quietly, letting me look at whatever I wanted to. He had a full hard-on. I wanted to taste it, lick it. He read my mind and let it jut out inches from my face. No words were spoken as I took the pointy tool in my lips and savored the flavors. I always knew I'd do this one day. The sucking part was more of a challenge...I choked a little as it went over my tongue and aimed for my throat. 

"Well done, Luv. Lie back and let me suck you for a bit." I hadn't counted on that part. The fantasies had always involved my mouth and a penis. It would be exciting. My penis was not as large as his, but I was not ashamed of it. Oh my GOD! It felt perfect! His lips were amazingly expert and the fur on his beard tickled my balls in a delicious way. I sure as hell didn't want to ejaculate yet.

"Stop! It feels just way too good." He pulled away while looking at me with dark, glistening eyes. He moved closer and hoisted my ankles over his shoulders. I felt one of his fingers poke in my anus. It was surprising and painful. 

"Oh no! I've been had! You're a fucking virgin who's never had a dick before! You're not even positive, right? What is wrong with you, Bradley? ??!"

"It's not...I'm not...I'm..." He got up off the bed and opened his bag. He inhaled some more oxygen and then found a tube of something. 

"My fault, really. I somehow knew all this already. Why didn't you just come right out and ask me to convert you?"

"It...it got too late. Don't blame me for falling in love with you!"

That seemed to have taken the heat out of his anger. "Yes. I get that. But still.... There's good and bad news, mate. The good news is that you're going to get what you want. The bad news is that I can't trust you ever again. Without trust there can't be love." He looked sad but his hard-on bobbed and danced.

"I understand, Ian. I'm sorry."

He grimly oiled up his pecker and collapsed on top of me. He returned us to that same position as before as he rubbed some of that cream stuff on my hole. He was not even trying to be gentle with his fingers this time. I bit my lip. I deserved the discomfort. He wouldn't look directly in my eyes. I was getting so much and yet almost nothing of what I wanted. Maybe all sex was like that. He replaced his greasy fingers with his unsheathed penis. He pushed in urgently and completely ignored cries of pain that I couldn't help but let out. 

"Not now. Keep your mouth shut or I'll stop." I weighed that option for a few excruciating seconds. He'd obviously not lost any of his angry momentum. He pumped until the full length and width of him was deep inside of me. I wondered if I'd ever agree to go through with sex again. Ian was sweating and groaning and pumping with a frenzy. I felt like one big wound that was being violated over and over. At one critical point, the crashing waves of pain gave way to throbs of pleasure. I held his shoulders and he allowed that. His eyes were squeezed shut. He must have been getting close because his breathing was ragged and desperate.

"Oh, Ian! This is...Oh!" I came.  He'd driven the semen out of me. 

"HERE!!". He let out a volley oh his toxic seed deep within me. It was over. Was it worth it? It was. I'd answer the same even now.

I met Shawna the next morning for breakfast. I had not slept but for a few minutes here and there. 

"You look like Hell, Brad! Did you and Ian have too much fun last night?"

"No. I just had too much to drink."

"You? I'm surprised. Well, I had a lovely time with Unia. She's a strikingly beautiful woman from Nigeria. Speaks four languages! We took a long stroll after dinner. She's speaking right after Ian Furmedge today." Just hearing his name gave me a sharp chest pain. "What's wrong? If I didn't know better... Oh no. Your heart is broken, isn't it? Shit. Let's get you a Bloody Mary and some food." Tears fell from my eyes despite my efforts to hold them in.

"I'm just an idiot."

The Bloody Marys arrived and the spicy cocktail did indeed make me feel better. I picked at the Eggs Benedict. Shawna ordered us more cocktails. I felt better about half way through the second glass. 

"Eat the celery at least. Want to hear the introduction I'm giving Ian?" I shook my head as the tears threatened to come flooding back. "OK. Why don't you just take the day off? You can start fresh tomorrow and take notes...and Brad?"

"Yes?"

"This too shall pass."

Of course it would. It was a life lesson in the most extreme way. She ordered us each two more Bloody Marys and let me drink most of hers. I was going to be so dehydrated later. 

"You can stay here as long as you want, but I've got to get the hall now. This is all being charged to my room so order whatever you want."

"No. I'm done. I'll ride up with you."

Back in my room, I stretched out on the bed and read the collection of Stephen King's short stories. Most of them were quite good. Despite the addictive power of his words, I fell asleep and napped most of the day. No dreams. I raided my own mini-bar for a Snickers bar and a bag of pistachios. No way was I leaving the room. I watched "Sixteen Candles" on the TV and thought about my future. I'd have to get tested eventually and enter some kind of treatment. Fuck it. I'd go down to restaurant and eat a cheeseburger or something. As I put my shoes on, there was a knock on my door.

It was Ian. "I'm sorry, Bradley. I treated you awful."

"Come in. I deceived you and it was the worst mistake of my life." 

"You didn't come to my talk. I scanned the crowd, hoping to find you. Once I realized you weren't there, I hurried my speech and left out half of what I wanted to say. I talked to Shawna. She's a character alright! She wanted to know what I'd done to make you upset. What did you say?"

"I told her nothing. She just saw it in my face. She's some kind of psychic or a witch or something."

"Can we talk?"

"Sure, have a seat. Can I get you something?"

"I'm fine." He sat on the edge of my rumpled bed and let out a long sigh. "Do you accept my apology for being so nasty? I didn't mean to be."

"Of course. I deserved it."

"Nobody should ever be talked to that way." He took off his big gym shoes, peeled up the inner pad and produced a joint. "Fancy a spliff?"

I couldn't believe he'd brought that on the plane with him. "How did you..."

"These sneaks smell so rank, I knew none of those dogs would ever sniff it out."

"I was about to head down to get some food. Want to come with me?"

"I've a better idea. Let's smoke this and order room service. What are you watching?"

I could smell his discarded shoes. "It's almost over."

"Come lie down next to me." I did. He was so gorgeously long. Things were looking up.  He used a book of paper matches to light the weed. I only knew about smoking from a Cheech and Chong movie I'd seen...and from watching my roommate. "It's not all that strong, but very soothing to the nerves. I had shingles last year and it blunted the pain nicely."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to see your speech, Ian." He passed me the joint. The fragrance was strong and pleasant. It was obviously better quality than the homegrown shit I'd smelled before. I inhaled and held it in. 

"I still love you, Bradley. I have to now because you're carrying my child." I suppose that was a nice way of putting it. This guy...

"Oh look. The 'Amityville Horror' is on. Have you seen it?"

"I don't think so. Hungry yet? You will be soon."

We watched our clouds drift toward the ceiling. I started talking about the movie and the book, about how terrified I was. I talked about reading the book while staying home from school with strep throat. The pot made me so talkative. 

"I'll ring room service. Get some more of those potato skins up here. Tomorrow night we'll go out for a nice dinner."

"Sounds good to me."

We finished the weed and soaked up contented silence. After the potato skins were consumed, I might have dozed for a minute or two. I was awakened by Ian straddling my face with his enormous cock aiming for open lips. "Shh. You're still dreaming, mate." It was the greatest waking dream I'd ever had. I ultimately swallowed his thick, salty load. He indulged me with all sorts of 'first times' over the next three days. I liked everything except eating ass, but Ian assured me I'd come to love it eventually. OK.

We had our proper dinner with Shawna and her new woman. It was a lovely evening and made me feel so lucky to be alive. I was harboring a deadly virus now, but feeling more immortal than I ever had before. When I drove Ian back to the airport, he came right out and asked me if I was going to write about us. "You've no doubt got the best story of anyone who attended."

"No. I wouldn't compromise either of us like that. I have two hundred pages of notes to go through -- that's not including the taped interviews you arranged for me. You and I are off the record." We hugged a long time at the airport with promises to see each other again soon. Each of us exchanged several 'I love you's. And then he was gone. For now.

I spent the Summer researching and writing. Shawna went back home to Wyoming, but we kept in constant contact. I sent her rough drafts of everything I'd written and she was very encouraging. I ended up splitting the rent on a small apartment with Dan. He was the best and worst possible roommate, but at least he had no problem with brutal honesty. He listened without judgement as I recounted my Boulder experience. 

Ultimately, my writing was published in widely-read journal put out by The World Health Organization. My interview with AIDS researcher Donald St. Pierre was published by the school newspaper. Shawna had arranged a really hefty grant to study in England and keep writing reports. 

I left for the UK that October and never came back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

[Bicycledude]

Great love story ❤️