Bloodline

[JustAFrecklyWriter]

Patient 4: Dylan

 

“I’m sorry to tell you this, but you’re HIV-positive.”

 

Those were the words that changed Dylan’s life forever. He’d known it was coming. He and Ed had been fucking since the spring; it was only a matter of time until he was infected too. If he was being honest, he’d already known somewhere deep inside that he’d carried the disease. But this was the moment it finally became real. 

 

As he sat alone in that dark gray hospital room, those words ringing in his ears, he waited for the inevitable wave of fear and anxiety to come crashing down on him.

 

Nothing happened.

 

“I have some pamphlets here if you’re interested in learning more,” said the nurse gently.

 

He took them from her, trying to avoid the look of pity in her eyes. Surely the fear would come any minute, and her pity would be justified. After all, they said that AIDS was a death sentence. He could see how it affected Ed, weakening his body and suppressing his spirit. Who knows how long until the disease ravaged his body and tore it apart from the inside out?

 

But as he sat on that crinkly white paper, trying to avoid her pitiful gaze, he didn’t feel scared at all. He felt relief.

 

“Thank you,” he said. “I think I’d like a minute to myself if that’s all right.”

 

The nurse nodded. “Take as long as you need.”

 

When she left, he let out a deep breath. He looked around the room at the ugly shade of paint on the wall. He laughed to himself. “I’m HIV positive,” he said breathlessly. He looked at his hands. They looked the same as ever. It was almost like he could feel his blood pumping, warming his limbs. He felt light and giddy. He ran his fingers across his arm, shivering at how sensitive he felt.

 

“I’m poz…”

 

He slipped his hand underneath his shorts, under the waistline of his underwear. He grabbed his dick, stroking it softly as it grew to full length. He rubbed his thumb over the head, wiped off the smear of precum beading at the edge of his cock, and brought it to his lips. He slipped his thumb inside, swirling the taste around in his mouth.

 

“Fuck…”

 

It had been years since he’d tasted his own cum, but he never remembered it tasting as heavenly as it did now. He sucked on his thumb, getting it nice and wet before sliding it back down his shorts and into his hole. He grabbed his cock with his other hand, laying back against the table as he milked himself.

 

He could picture Ed’s face in his mind, that smug grin that was equal parts infuriating and intoxicating. It was Ed’s seed that flowed through him now, that leaked from his cock as he worked out his first positive load. He wanted to christen this experience, to immortalize the moment he first knew definitively that he was a dirty, fucked up, free man.

 

“Ugh… oh fuck… oh yes!”

 

He wiggled his thumb into his hole as deep as it would go, then cried out as his cock sprayed his tainted load all over his chest. The poz seed soaked through his shirt, staining it with his gift. He ran his fingers through the cum and sucked it down, savoring the thick globs of dirty sperm.

 

When he left the hospital that day, he was a changed man. The things that had weighed him down before no longer mattered. At first, he wondered if he was just in shock. That the high would come crashing down and leave him wrecked like the rest of the men he’d seen get infected. But the comedown never came. For the first time in his life, he felt like he finally knew who he was. The virus had given that to him–it had made everything clear. Years of putting on appearances and trying to live double lives washed away in an instant. He had finally embraced his true self–a sick, perverted, cum-guzzling faggot.

 

He didn’t share his newfound revelation with Ed. The man was too unpredictable, still in denial about having AIDS. Dylan almost felt sorry for him at times, until he remembered the way that Ed had shamelessly infected him without a second thought for his well-being. Not that Dylan really minded–he was actually grateful to him now. But that didn’t change the fact that Ed’s reaction to being poz and Dylan’s reaction to being poz were two different things. No, Dylan would have to maintain the illusion until the point of no return. By that time, Ed would be too weak to leave.

 

At times he wondered if he didn’t want Ed to leave because he didn’t want to lose Ed’s money or because he didn’t want to lose Ed’s dick. He knew he could probably have any man in Manhattan if he really put his mind to it. He’d been with plenty of well-off, powerful men in the few months he’d been escorting before Ed. But there was something about the old man that he found thrilling and erotic, and, if he was being honest with himself, incredibly similar to his father. Perhaps it was the self-loathing, the arrogance, the selfishness. His dad certainly had that in spades. Or perhaps it was the fact that, as Ed’s body began to waste and rot away, he was only becoming more and more attractive to him.

 

Then around Christmas, Ed’s health took a serious turn for the worse. He became bedridden, leaving Dylan with the responsibility of being his primary caretaker. He didn’t mind–after all, he was living solely on Ed’s dime, and he still harbored some affection for the man. But Ed’s condition left him feeling isolated. He had no one else to talk to, no one to confide in his feelings about being poz and the freedom it gave him. He needed to find someone who understood, someone who felt the way that he did.

 

He found what he was looking for in late February: an ad in the local gay paper for an HIV/AIDS support group in Chelsea. It met on Monday afternoons in a small room in someone’s apartment, densely furnished with bric-a-brac and reeking of potpourri. When he walked in, he was surprised to see only a handful of people there.

 

“Please, join us,” said a kind-looking Asian man in his early 30s. “We’re just about to start.”

 

Dylan sat in the only empty chair in the circle. To his left was a handsome black man in his late 20s, and to his right, a sickly thin man with light red hair. He tried not to stare at the sick man, wanting to be respectful. But curiosity drew his gaze–he knew this would be his fate eventually. The thought didn’t scare him, surprisingly.

 

The Asian man clapped his hands together and smiled at them. “For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Vincent. I started this group to be a safe space for anyone with HIV or AIDS who wants to share their experience and those of us like myself who are negative but deeply impacted by this epidemic. We’ve all experienced the fear and stigma out there. But this is a safe place to discuss that without fear of judgment. Now, who would like to begin?”

 

The man with red hair raised his hand. “I mean, I guess I’ll start.” He pulled out a handkerchief and coughed into it. Then he laughed wryly.

 

“It’s not like it’s hard to tell I’m sick. My work fired me the second one of these showed up.” He pointed to a purple lesion on the back of his forearm. 

 

“But the hardest part has been my partner. He’s so scared of getting it he won’t even sleep in the same bed as me anymore. Every time I cough he cowers away from me, like he’s afraid I’ll infect him. It’s like… I wish he would just leave me, you know? At least that way I would feel like he’s being honest with me.”

 

Dylan frowned. He suddenly felt like his very presence was offensive.

 

“Thank you, Ryan.” Vincent turned to Dylan. “How about our newcomer? Would you like to share?”

 

Dylan felt a jolt of adrenaline as all eyes turned to him. “Well… I think maybe I should just listen-”

 

“Nonsense. Whatever you have to say, this is a safe place.”

 

“Okay. Well… I just tested positive a few months ago.”

 

Vincent nodded. “That must have been difficult.”

 

Dylan bit his lip. “But… that’s the thing. It wasn’t.”

 

Vincent tilted his head, a confused smile on his face. “How do you mean?”

 

“I mean, I wasn’t upset. I was happy.” He looked around at the men in the group. “I felt… powerful, you know? Like I had been given this gift, this lineage that stretched back to so many men before me. A brotherhood of men like me who loved to fuck and get fucked. They want us to be ashamed of being gay, but I just felt this sense of freedom for the first time in my life. Like I could fuck whoever I wanted without being afraid.”

 

He grew more passionate as something was unleashed inside him. “There’s nothing to be afraid of anymore, you know? We’re poz. We’re freed from all that societal bullshit and those ridiculous expectations. Now we can just fuck like we’re meant to-”

 

“That’s enough.” Vincent was not smiling anymore. “How dare you come in here and say those things?”

 

He blushed. “I’m sorry. This is just how I feel, I’m not trying to-”

 

Vincent’s face was red with anger. “These men are sick. Some of them sicker than others. But they are sick and they are dying. How dare you make AIDS some kind of… freedom? It’s a death sentence.”

 

“But that’s what I’m talking about,” Dylan said desperately. “I don’t think it has to be. I think if you embrace it, if you let it in and you do what it wants, I think it can free you. That’s what happened to me. I knew I was gonna get it, I think I wanted it in a way. It’s like I knew it would give me a new life, and it could do the same for you if you’ll only let it-”

 

“I think you should leave.” Vincent stood up, his finger pointed toward the door.

 

Dylan looked around the room. The other men avoided his gaze.

 

“I’m sorry. I’ll… I’ll go.”

 

He walked out of the apartment, his cheeks burning. Tears sprang to his eyes as he descended the stairs. Why was he the only one who felt this way? Why didn’t they understand, why couldn’t they see?

 

He had just left the building when he heard his name being called.

 

“Dylan, wait!”

 

The handsome black man from the meeting had followed him out of the meeting. He smiled at him, showing off a pearly white grin. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

 

As they sat in a diner down the street, both clutching mugs of shitty Folgers coffee, Dylan studied the man in front of him. His hair was natural and textured, with short locks that jutted out from every angle. He had a close-trimmed beard that enclosed two beautiful lips, lips that Dylan couldn’t help but stare at as he sipped his coffee.

 

The man caught his gaze and smiled at him. “I’m Isaiah, by the way.”

 

“Dylan.”

 

Isaiah smirked. “I was pretty surprised to hear what you said back there, Dylan.”

 

“Yeah, well, I shouldn’t have-”

 

“It’s okay.” Isaiah raised his hands in a show of peace. “I thought it was really cool how you spoke your truth. And… I agree with you.”

 

He raised an eyebrow. “You do?”

 

Isaiah leaned forward, his hands clasped together on the table. “Yeah. I mean, I never really thought about it like that, but when I heard you say it… It was like it all made sense, you know?”

 

Dylan sighed. “Well, I’m not so sure it’s a message people are willing to hear. And I wasn’t trying to offend anyone, I really wasn’t. I just feel like people have got this virus all wrong. Like, it’s not a curse from God, or whatever they’re saying, it’s-”

 

“-a blessing.” Isaiah grinned, flashing those beautiful teeth. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

 

“How did you feel when you found out you were positive?”

 

Isaiah leaned back, drumming his fingers against the table. “Uh… you know. Shock and all of that. I think I was a bit scared at first, to be honest. Then I got really horny. I wanted to fuck, but I felt guilty giving it to someone else. So I just sort of shoved it down.”

 

Dylan nodded excitedly. “Exactly! That’s what I’m saying–imagine if we didn’t have to feel that kind of shame. Imagine if we could be honest and just say we wanna fuck. We like being poz, we like the way it feels. There’s nothing to fear anymore. I mean, how many people get that kind of freedom?”

 

Isaiah smirked. “See, I know that, and you know that. But how exactly do we explain all that to the rest of the world?”

 

Dylan sat back. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I guess maybe one person at a time.”

 

Isaiah raised his eyebrows. “What, you want to start a group or something?”

 

He shrugged. “Why not? They’ve got their support group. Why shouldn’t we have our own?”

 

“A pro-AIDS support group?”

 

“A group of people who are empowered by being poz. People who take pride in their status and laugh in the face of anyone who would dare shame them.”

 

Isaiah laughed. “I gotta say, I like what you’re saying. Your energy, it’s… powerful.” He took another sip of his coffee and leaned back, stretching his arm across the booth. “So tell me–what are the rules for this little group? I mean, what are we all about?”

 

“Well, first of all, I think there should be no shame whatsoever. That’s rule number one. And if we’re not ashamed of our status, then there should be no reason not to have sex. Sex is a gift and we should treat it that way. I think we should never turn down an opportunity to get or give loads.”

 

“I guess that means condoms are out,” Isaiah said with a grin.

 

“Absolutely. That’s rule number three.”

 

“What about people who don’t have the virus? I mean, there’s gotta be some people like you who wanted it before they even had it.”

 

Dylan nodded. “You’re right. I think we need to focus on more than just the people who are already poz. This thing is spreading, and spreading quickly. If more guys would just take control of their lives, get the virus on their terms, in their way… I think it would make all the difference.”

 

“So we give the virus to anyone who asks for it?” said Isaiah.

 

“Yes.”

 

Isaiah took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “That’s pretty bold right there.”

 

“I don’t care,” said Dylan. “Everyone should have the choice to get or give HIV if that’s what they want. As long as both parties are willing, I don’t see the problem with it. In fact… in a way, I think it’s probably the kindest thing you can do for someone.”

 

Isaiah smiled. “I like that.” He took Dylan’s hand in his and rubbed it.

 

Dylan felt a flutter in his chest. He’d never really felt this way around a guy before. Most men were like his father, who was disgusted by him, or like Ed, who just wanted to use him. Isaiah didn’t seem like either.

 

“Do you wanna get out of here?” Isaiah asked with a twinkle in his eye.

 

“I don’t think I can wait.” Dylan grinned mischievously. “Bathroom?”

 

The second they locked the door behind them, they were off to the races. Those beautiful lips were all over Dylan’s neck, making his skin tingle as he ran his fingers through Isaiah’s gorgeous locks. His hands fiddled with Isaiah’s belt, desperate to wrap his fingers around the man’s cock. He reached into Isaiah’s jeans and grabbed his dick, warm and hard. Isaiah growled softly as he stroked it.

 

“Take these off.” Isaiah dropped to his knees and began peeling off Dylan’s pants. He smiled when he saw the lacy fabric of Dylan’s thong. “Let me see that pretty pink hole.”

 

He bent Dylan over the counter, one hand running over his back while the other squeezed his ass. He pried away the thong strap with his thumb to reveal Dylan’s hole, smooth and pink.

 

“Fuck, boy. I gotta taste that.”

 

Dylan moaned as he felt Isaiah’s tongue on his hole, the roughness of the man’s beard scratching his sensitive taint. He rested his face against the mirror, his fingers clawing at the glass as Isaiah ravaged his hole.

 

“Please, I need your cock,” he whimpered, his body quivering. 

 

The next thing he knew, Isaiah had pulled him down onto his knees and that thick, beautiful cock was leaking in his face.

 

“Put it in your mouth, baby.”

 

He didn’t need to be asked twice. He slid his mouth over Isaiah’s foreskin, running his tongue along the underside of the man’s shaft.

 

Isaiah moaned. “I want to do this with you.”

 

He pushed his cock deeper inside Dylan’s mouth until his pubes scratched his nose.

 

“I want a place where we can fuck freely. Where we can be who the virus makes us…”

 

Isaiah face-fucked him slowly, holding him tightly as he slid in and out of Dylan’s throat. It felt amazing, pure and animalistic and passionate. It was different from sex with Ed, more honest. He wasn’t playing a part anymore. He was just offering himself to this man who thought the way he did, who saw the way gay sex was supposed to be.

 

Dylan grabbed Isaiah’s ass, pushing the man deeper into himself. He was already imagining what it would look like, this group the two of them were birthing today. No more shame or self-hate. Only pleasure, raw and unapologetic. There would be dozens of men like them, some poz and ready to breed and others waiting for a chance to be unleashed. This fuck was only the beginning of so much more to come.

 

Isaiah let out a guttural moan as he unloaded inside his throat. Dylan could feel the man’s cock throbbing as pumped his stomach full of beautiful, toxic cum. He pulled his own cock out of his thong and started stroking it, bringing himself to completion in seconds as he shot his own toxic load onto the tile.

 

“Holy fuck,” Isaiah said breathlessly, his limp cock falling out of Dylan’s mouth. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”

 

“I’m just getting started,” Dylan said with a wicked grin.

 

They made plans to meet up at Isaiah’s apartment later that week to brainstorm about finding their first recruit. Isaiah lived in Chelsea, not far from where they’d met. Over the next couple of days, he found his thoughts consumed with Isaiah and their burgeoning group. He could see it now, a group of guys who could recharge each other and spread their seed the way God intended. Isaiah at his side, his right-hand man to guide men towards the light.

 

When he approached the address Isaiah had given him, he was practically buzzing with excitement. A loud whistling sound coming from above caught his attention. He looked up to see an old man leering down at him from his balcony. 

 

“Shit, boy. You gotta lotta ass on that little frame.”

 

The old man looked to be in his 70s, with greasy black hair, a large, wrinkled nose, and fat pink lips. He grinned lecherously.

 

“You wanna come up for a little fun? I’m on the third floor, apartment 3C. Gimme ten minutes and I’ll make you squeal.”

 

He scratched at a purple splotch on his neck. Dylan just smiled up at him and walked into the building.

 

“I met your neighbor,” he said to Isaiah when he opened the door to his suite. “He’s charming.”

 

“Oh jeez, sorry about him,” Isaiah said as he let him in. “He’s always ogling at guys on the sidewalk.”

 

Dylan sat on the couch, slipping off his shoes and curling his legs underneath him. “What do you know about him?”

 

“Not much. I always thought he was a bit of a creep, but part of me kind of respects his game. He wants to get his dick wet, no more, no less. He’d probably have more luck if he didn’t look like a walking STD factory.”

 

“You think he’s poz?”

 

Isaiah shrugged. “Probably. Don’t know how, though–no one I know would ever go near him, even before all this.”

 

Dylan beamed. “He sounds perfect.”

 

“Perfect for what?”

 

“What do you think about him for our first recruit?”

 

Isaiah raised an eyebrow. “You can’t be serious?”

 

He nodded. “Absolutely. He’s exactly the kind of guy we’ve been looking for.”

 

“I don’t know…” Isaiah frowned. “I was hoping for someone a little less… well, disgusting.”

 

“Remember our motto–we get and give loads to anyone who wants them. The virus doesn’t discriminate and neither should we.”

 

Isaiah thought for a moment. “Fair point. Okay, I’m in.”

 

Dylan grabbed Isaiah’s hand and smiled. “Come on–let’s strike while the iron’s hot.”

 

He held Isaiah’s hand as they walked up to the third floor. He could feel butterflies in his stomach again. Was he nervous about bringing in their newest member? Or was it the feeling of Isaiah’s hand in his?

 

They stopped outside the door to 3C. “You sure about this?” asked Isaiah. He nodded, then knocked on the door. He heard the sound of footsteps, then a chain unlatching.

 

The door opened to reveal the old man wearing nothing but a tank top and a pair of striped boxer shorts. He scratched his pot belly and grinned. “Well well. Two for the price of one.”

 

Dylan smiled sweetly. “Can we come in?”

 

“Fuck yeah, you can come in. Right this way, sweetheart.”

 

He stepped back to allow the two young men into his apartment. The air was stale and stifling like the windows had never been opened before. The man gestured to the couch, which seemed stained with some sort of bodily fluids. 

 

“Please, have a seat.” The old man seemed excited, almost like he couldn’t believe his luck. “I’m Gary.”

 

“I’m Dylan, and this is Isaiah.” 

 

Dylan sat on the couch, wary of avoiding anything sticky. Isaiah stayed standing.

 

“Can I get you anything to drink?” asked Gary. “Beer? Water?”

 

“Hold the Rohypnol,” Isaiah muttered under his breath.

 

Dylan shot him a look, then smiled at Gary. “Thank you, I’m fine.”

 

The old man sat down on a recliner across from them and put his feet up. “So, what can I do for you two boys?” One of his hairy testicles fell out of the leg of his boxer shorts. He scratched it.

 

Dylan cleared his throat. “Well, we actually have a proposal for you. You see-”

 

“Aw, fuck. This isn’t one of them things where you try and get me to sell you my apartment, is it?” 

 

Gary sat up in his seat, his pot belly jiggling as he moved. “Cause I ain’t moving. I told the last guys, I’m staying here till I die. Don’t care how soon that is.” He scratched the purple lesion on his neck again. “So if that’s what you’re here for, you can go ahead and-”

 

“It’s not, I promise.” Dylan looked at Isaiah. “We actually wanted to know if you’d be interested in joining a group that we’re thinking of starting.”

 

Gary’s eyes narrowed. “Group, huh? What kind of group? Like a religious thing?”

 

Isaiah laughed. “Kind of. In a way.”

 

“It’s more of a… well, an HIV thing,” said Dylan. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but… you are poz, right?”

 

Gary sighed. “Well, guess it ain’t no use hiding it. Yeah, I got the bug. A few years back, actually. Fucking shame, I used to get so much boypussy. Now I’m lucky just to get enough to get by.”

 

Dylan nodded. “That’s why we came here, actually. You see, we’re both poz too.”

 

Gary blinked in surprise. “Really? But you’re both so… healthy. Young. You look great.”

 

Dylan smiled. “I don’t think being poz means you have to be old and decrepit. I mean, I know we’ll all go that way one day. But I think that being poz is just another part of life. It’s part of being gay, a right of passage we all go through towards sexual liberation. Whether you get it when you’re young or when you’re old, we’re all gonna get it eventually. There’s no use denying it or being afraid of it.”

 

Gary studied him for a moment. “You’re not like most of the boys out there, are you? Most guys see me, they run in the opposite direction as fast as their legs can carry them. They don’t see the real me, the sex pistol I used to be. I could get a boy off with just one finger, and I did as often as I could. I made so many men cum it could fill the empire state building. It’s a fucking shame those days are behind me.”

 

“What if it didn’t have to be?” Dylan’s eyes were shining. “What if your sexual prime was right now?”

 

The old man laughed. “Now I know I still got the juice, but come on. What guy in his right mind would fuck me?”

 

“I would,” said Dylan.

 

Gary blinked. “Really? You’d let me fuck you?”

 

He nodded. “Mm-hm.”

 

“Without a condom?”

 

Dylan laughed. “What’s the point of doing it at all if it isn't raw?” He stood. “That’s what I’m talking about. Raw, man-on-man sex. Dirty, unfiltered, impure.”

 

He walked toward Gary, slipping his shoes off as he went. “Just two poz guys, sharing the gift with each other.”

 

He ran his finger along Gary’s arm. He could see the old man’s dick poking out of the hole in his boxer shorts. “Does that sound like something you’d be interested in?”

 

Gary swallowed, then nodded. Dylan pulled down his pants to reveal what he wore underneath: a bright red garter belt and matching stockings. He wore it without underwear, leaving his boythings completely exposed underneath. The old man gasped as Dylan climbed on top of his lap. His hands shook as they gripped Dylan’s waist, rubbing his hard cock against the boy’s hole.

 

“Jesus,” he whispered as Dylan stripped off his shirt. “You’re beautiful.”

 

Dylan reached through the hole in the old man’s boxer shorts and grabbed his cock. It was short and stubby, but thick enough to leave Dylan feeling nice and full. It sat in a giant tuft of thick, gray pubic hair like a snake waiting to strike. He aimed it at his hole and sat down slowly.

 

“This is what I’m offering you,” he whispered into Gary’s ear. “A wet hole, anytime you want it. Men like us who just want to fuck and breed and spread their seed as far and wide as they can.”

 

He slowly bounced up and down on Gary’s cock, feeling his hole spread open by the man’s thickness. His hands rested on the man’s thick belly, steadying himself as he worked Gary’s cock with his pussy. The old man stared up at him in awe, his eyes glazed over as he enjoyed the wetness of his insides. Isaiah stood off to the side, his cock in his hand as he played the voyeur.

 

“Come here.” He held his hand out to Isaiah. As Isaiah approached, he took the man’s cock into his mouth and sucked on it hungrily. The sounds of both men groaning were like music to his ears. He squeezed Gary’s cock with his hole as he swirled his tongue around Isaiah’s cock, desperate to give these two poz men the relief they so badly deserved.

 

“Oh fuck,” said Gary. He grabbed Dylan’s waist and slammed him down on his cock. “Take my poz load, boy. Take daddy’s load!”

 

He grunted loudly as he expelled his charged cum inside Dylan’s rectum. Dylan felt the old man’s hands squeezing his tits as his body shook with pleasure. Soon the sound of Isaiah’s groaning joined the sounds from the old man as he tasted Isaiah’s sweet seed on his tongue. Fully recharged, he slid off of Gary’s lap, careful to keep the old man’s gift safely inside him. 

 

Gary lay on the recliner, breathing heavily as his limp cock still poked out of his boxers. “Holy fuck,” he wheezed. “That was incredible.” 

 

He grinned lecherously at Isaiah. “I’m spent now, but I can’t wait for a chance with this one.” He stroked his limp cock, sniffed his fingers, then licked off some of Dylan’s ass juices. Isaiah grimaced.

 

“You join our group, you can have it anytime you want. Me…” Dylan nodded at Isaiah, “...him, anyone else who joins the poz brotherhood.”

 

Gary beamed. “I’m in!”

 

From that day on, it was the three of them against the world. Gary was a ravenous new recruit, eager to spread the word and seed as far as he could. They met in Isaiah’s apartment, mostly because Isaiah refused to set foot in Gary’s den of bodily fluids again.

 

“You’re looking for new members, I got the perfect guy–an old friend from my days in the army,” Gary said excitedly at their first meeting. “We used to hook up every now and then on the down-low. Course, it was hard hiding it from his wife when he got the bug. She left him, took everything and ruined his life. Last I heard he was trawling for dick in Harlem. I’ll see if I can track him down!”

 

Dylan nodded. “Sounds good. While you’re doing that, I want Isaiah to start looking into some apartment spaces in the area. We’ll need a place to meet on the regular.”

 

Isaiah frowned. “How exactly are we gonna afford that? You got some kinda fortune I don’t know about?”

 

Dylan felt Ed’s credit cards burning a hole in his pocket. He smiled. “Don’t worry about it. Now while you’re doing that, I’ve got a little project of my own to work on.”

 

“You sure you don’t want my help?” asked Isaiah. He squeezed Dylan’s hand, winking at him. “I think we make a pretty good team.”

 

Dylan kissed him on the cheek. “I’m sure. I need to do this on my own.”

 

He waited outside the apartment building, his face hidden behind a large pair of Carrera sunglasses he’d bought on Ed’s dime the week before. He was careful to stay out of sight, lest he be recognized by one of the attendees, or, God forbid, the host. Finally, after about an hour, he saw who he was looking for.

 

The sickly ginger man from the meeting looked paler than ever as he left the apartment. Despite the sun shining and the lack of chill, he wore a big coat, which he wrapped around himself as he walked down the sidewalk. Dylan followed behind him, waiting until they were safely away from the meeting to make his approach.

 

A couple of blocks later the ginger man was stopped at a red light waiting to cross. Dylan walked up beside him and put his hand on his arm.

 

“Excuse me,” he said. “Don’t I know you?”

 

The guy’s face turned even paler when he saw him. “Oh… what are you doing here?”

 

“It’s Ryan, right?”

 

Ryan looked nervously at the light. “I should probably be going-”

 

“Wait,” said Dylan. “I just wanna talk. Could we go for a walk?”

 

Ryan looked at him warily for a moment, then nodded. They walked around City Hall Park for a bit, the ginger man shivering even in the sun.

 

“How are things with your partner?” asked Dylan.

 

Ryan shrugged. “The same. He still won’t touch me.”

 

He frowned. “I’m sorry. That really sucks.”

 

Ryan laughed. “Yeah, well, we can’t all be as free as you. What was it, ‘free from all of society’s bullshit expectations?’” He coughed into his arm, causing a nearby woman to lean away from him.

 

“Look, I’m not here to preach at you,” said Dylan. “I just want to ask you something.”

 

He stopped walking. “Do you feel like your life would be better if you didn’t have to feel ashamed of who you were?”

 

Ryan sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t see what difference it makes. I’m dying either way.”

 

“But you’re not dead yet.” He grabbed Ryan’s hand. “That’s what I’m saying. You are a beautiful, drop-dead-sexy man. Your boyfriend should be fighting other guys off with a stick, not shaming you and refusing to sleep in the same bed as you.”

 

“What does it matter? I can’t change him. He only sees me for this disease. He’s afraid of it.”

 

“I’m not,” said Dylan. “And there are other guys like me, guys who aren’t afraid of the bug. Who accept it head-on? Don’t you want to be a part of something that accepts you for who you are? Fuck it, who more than accepts your disease, but actually celebrates it?”

 

Ryan shook his head. His eyes were wet. “That’s just a fantasy. It’s not real.”

 

“It is real.” Dylan held out his hand. “Join us. There are just a few of us right now, but I promise you, we will build a safe place where you’ll get all the love and sex you need. Where you can breed and be bred to your heart’s content.”

 

Ryan looked at him, his lip trembling. “I don’t believe you.”

 

Dylan touched Ryan’s lips with his fingers, then kissed him softly. He felt the man melt into his arms, going so weak he had to hold him up. They kissed deeply, tongues fighting as they swapped saliva. When Dylan broke the kiss, Ryan was staring up at him in wonder. He smiled.

 

“Come with me.”

 

He took him into the men’s room at City Hall, guiding him into one of the stalls at the end. He pulled off the man’s coat, revealing his thin, wasted frame underneath. Ryan instinctively covered himself with his arms in shame.

 

Dylan grabbed his arms and pulled them away. “Don’t.” He kissed Ryan. “You’re so beautiful.”

 

He pulled off the man’s shirt, revealing his pale, veiny torso and abs. He traced his skin with his fingertips, kissing down the man’s chest as he got on his knees. He unbuckled Ryan’s belt, then slid the man’s pants down over his cock. It was the most lively thing about him, long and thick underneath a bright red patch of fiery hair.

 

“Jesus,” whispered Dylan. “You should have never put this thing away.”

 

He took the head into his mouth, causing Ryan to cry out in joy. He sucked the man’s death stick, eager to work him up to full mast so he could receive his gift. When Ryan was fully hard, he stood up and bent over, gripping the top of the stall as he offered Ryan his hole.

 

“Take me,” he moaned. “Give me your poz load.”

 

With trembling fingers, Ryan lowered his pants, then peeled off his lace panties to gain access to his hole. His fingers were hard and boney as they opened him up, but he soon felt the warmth of the man’s knob easing its way into him. He relished the sound of Ryan’s moans, joyful at the knowledge that his pussy could resurrect this dying man. He felt Ryan’s lips against his neck as the man buried his cock up to the hilt inside of him.

 

“Oh God…” moaned Ryan. “I never thought I’d feel this again.”

 

Dylan turned his head to look into Ryan’s eyes. “Fuck me,” he whispered. “Show me what you were made for.”

 

Ryan grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. He withdrew his cock almost all the way, then slammed it back inside.

 

“Fuck, that pussy,” he moaned. He kept a tight grip on Dylan’s curls as he reamed the boy’s ass, filling the bathroom with the sound of flesh on flesh. The two men grunted together, loud and animalistic. Nothing else mattered now–not the rules of society, not the fear of getting caught. They were two men doing what they were put on earth to do: fucking each other’s brains out.

 

Dylan could feel the ginger man getting more energized with every thrust. His cold skin became warmer as he worked himself up to his orgasm, his death stick preparing to fire for the first time in ages. His boney fingers dug into Dylan’s ass cheeks as he heaved one, two, three times before collapsing onto the boy’s back. Soon Dylan felt that sweet, familiar feeling of warmth spread through him as he took Ryan’s gift inside him. 

 

Then he felt Ryan shaking on top of him. It took him a moment, but he soon realized the man was crying.

 

“Hey.” He turned around and took the ginger man into his arms. 

 

Ryan looked up at him with tears in his eyes. “I didn’t think I could ever have that again.”

 

Dylan wiped away his tears. “There’s so much more, Ryan. Will you let me show you?”

 

Ryan nodded, and Dylan knew the man was his. 

 

He smiled. “Then there’s something I want you to do for me.”

 

With Ryan on his side, Dylan’s little group started growing faster than ever. Gary brought in several of his old fuckbuddies, some of them newly poz and others in the advanced stages of AIDS, but all of them horny and eager to fuck with abandon. Isaiah found a spacious little two-bedroom apartment for rent in the same apartment building as the HIV support group, which quickly became the headquarters of their new poz brotherhood.

 

But the real secret weapon was Ryan. His experience with Dylan had been a spiritual awakening, breathing new life into him and changing him from the inside out. He was no longer sickly and defeated, but strong and full of vitality. It was something like a miracle, and it was one Dylan used to his full advantage. He started small–getting Ryan to approach one or two of the more jaded members of Vincent’s little group and broach the topic of a new way of life. Seeing Ryan’s transformation and lured by the notion of carefree sex, the men were easily swayed into jumping ship.

 

Soon the group was hemorrhaging members as they defected one by one to join the poz brotherhood. By spring, Dylan had gained over a dozen followers. They held weekly meetings on Saturday nights, where they would meet at the new apartment and recharge each other during lust-filled orgies. Dylan made sure to receive each man’s seed at least once, knowing that his pussy had become something of a prized commodity among the men. Then, once everyone had given and gotten at least one load, they would discuss their plans for expanding the brotherhood.

 

“We need fresh blood,” said Gary one evening in early April.

 

“We can always go to hospitals and try to find guys with HIV,” said Isaiah.

 

Gary scoffed. “No, I don’t mean men who are already poz. I mean neg guys.” He turned to Dylan. “You promised us we’d get to spread our seed. But all we’ve done is recharge a bunch of guys who already have the bug.”

 

The men began to argue amongst themselves. Dylan raised his hand to quiet them. 

 

“The more poz men we bring over to our way of life, the more we’ll attract neg guys who want what we have. All we have to do is wait. And whoever does want to be pozzed will get to take seed from all of us. We’ll all share in the conversion.”

 

“I say we go to the public toilets in Central Park and just start pozzing guys,” said Gary. He grinned. “Once they’re infected they’ll start to see our way of thinking.”

 

Dylan shook his head. “No. Absolutely not.”

 

“I thought HIV was supposed to be a gift? Why are we holding back?”

 

“It is a gift, but receiving that gift should be a choice,” said Dylan. “It’s something every man should be able to decide for himself.”

 

“I didn’t get to decide,” said Ryan. He stood, addressing the other men. “I didn’t choose to be this way. But even so, I’m glad I have the disease now.” 

 

He smiled at Dylan. “You showed me the light. I think it's only fair we do the same for others.”

 

Dylan banged on the table with his fist. “Enough. I don’t want to hear any more talk about stealthing neg guys. This is not who we are. If you wanna be in the poz brotherhood, you follow our rules.”

 

“What about him, huh?” Gary nodded at Isaiah.

 

Dylan frowned. “What about him?”

 

Gary pointed at him accusingly. “He’s not following our rules. Whatever happened to ‘give and get loads from whoever wants it?’ I’ve been in the group for months and he still won’t give me a shot at his ass.”

 

“Just because I wanna fuck doesn’t mean I wanna fuck you, Gary,” said Isaiah.

 

“Now that you mention it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you get fucked,” said Ryan. “You only ever let us suck your dick. And you never return the favor.”

 

There was a murmur throughout the room. 

 

Isaiah stood. “What are you trying to say?” he asked angrily. “You think I’m a fake?”

 

“I think you’re lying,” said Gary. “I don’t think you got the bug at all.”

 

Isaiah laughed in disbelief. “That’s ridiculous. Of course I do.” He looked at Ryan. “You know me, man. Tell them.”

 

Ryan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Well, I know we were in Vincent’s group together, but I never really heard you share about being poz. You mostly just listened.”

 

“Like a voyeur,” said Gary. “He’s getting off on us but he don’t have the bug himself. He’s a fucking interloper!”

 

“That’s enough,” said Dylan. “I know Isaiah. He started this group with me. I would know if he was a liar.”

 

But he knew the truth from the way Isaiah avoided his gaze. He’d suspected it for a while now, though he’d hoped he was wrong. Hoped there was some other explanation for the distance that had grown between the two of them. Some other reason why every man had filled his pussy except the one man he wanted the most.

 

“You guys are crazy,” said Isaiah. He got up and headed toward the door. “I’m out of here.”

 

Gary put his hand up to stop him. “Not until you take one of our loads in your ass.” He smiled menacingly. “It’s the only way to be sure.”

 

“Man, fuck you-”

 

There was a knock at the door. The men looked at each other in confusion.

 

“Who the hell is that?” asked Gary.

 

“No idea,” said Dylan. “I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

 

He walked over to the door and opened it to reveal Vincent, his face twisted in anger.

 

“Vincent? What are you doing here?”

 

The Asian man looked around the room, shooting dirty looks at the members of his now-extinct HIV support group. “I thought I might find you all here. I heard whispers of some perverted sex cult but I’d hoped it wasn’t true.”

 

He glared at Dylan. “Well, I hope you’re happy. You’ve ruined any chance these men had of finding inner peace. Whore.”

 

Isaiah went to speak but Dylan stopped him. “Hello, Vincent. I’m glad you stopped by. I was hoping you might get a chance to see us for yourself.”

 

Vincent laughed scornfully. “Oh, I see it. What a great group you have here. A bunch of perverts who disgrace the dignity of people with AIDS.”

 

Dylan shook his head. “No, Vincent. You’re the one that disgraces their dignity. Teaching them to be ashamed of themselves when all they want is the freedom to live their lives honestly.”

 

“I never said they should be ashamed.”

 

“But you did,” said Dylan. “You spin this web about how HIV is a death sentence, how these men are sick and dying. But I look around and all I see is life.”

 

“You know what I think?” Ryan walked up to Vincent and shoved his finger in his chest. “I think you’re jealous.”

 

“Hah… N-no,” Vincent stuttered.

 

Ryan put his face in his, looking him up and down. “I know you, Vincent. And I know you’re terrified of sex. I think you look at us and you wish you could fuck the way we can. Tell me I’m wrong.”

 

Vincent swallowed. “You’re wrong.”

 

“So you don’t want this?” Ryan grabbed Vincent’s cock. “You don’t want to feel what it’s like to take a man’s cock raw, the way God intended? You don’t want to feel my cock sliding inside you, lubing you up with my cum as I go a second round?”

 

Vincent was shaking where he stood. The men started to close in on him, their eyes glinting with hunger.

 

“Of course not. I would never have sex without a condom. That would be incredibly dangerous to my health.”

 

“Isn’t that what makes it so fucking fun?” said Gary. The old man burst into laughter, causing the rest of the men to laugh with him.

 

“I… I don’t-”

 

“No more talking.” Gary grabbed Vincent’s shirt and began pulling it over his head. “Time for fucking.”

 

“What are you doing?” asked Vincent as Ryan began unbuttoning his pants. “You can’t… it’s not safe.”

 

His eyes went wide as Ryan pulled his pants down to his ankles, revealing his fully erect cock poking out of his boxer briefs.

 

“Looks like he’s ours, boys!” yelled Gary. The men descended on Vincent, stripping off the rest of his clothes as he cried out in a mix of fear and ecstasy. Soon he was on all fours, his mouth full of Gary’s cock while Ryan ripped open the back of his boxer briefs. He yelped when Ryan shoved himself inside him, causing the rest of the men to break out in cheer.

 

“Poz that hole!”

 

“Give it to him good!”

 

“Infect him!”

 

Dylan watched from the sidelines, a smile of satisfaction on his face as his final holdout gave himself over to their depravity.

 

“Looks like you were right,” said Isaiah. He stood next to Dylan, watching Vincent’s deflowering unfold. “All we had to do was wait.”

 

“You don’t want a turn on him?” asked Dylan. “A chance to infect the new guy?”

 

Isaiah said nothing. 

 

Dylan sighed. “It’s true, then, isn’t it? You’re neg?”

 

Isaiah took a deep breath. “Come with me. I want to explain.”

 

He took him into the bedroom, away from the grunts and cries of satisfaction. He shut the door behind them, then slid down to his knees, burying his head in his hands.

 

Dylan put his arms around him. “It’s all right, Isaiah. You don’t have to explain.”

 

Isaiah looked up at him, tears in his eyes. “You don’t understand… I want to convert, I really do. I’m just… I’m just scared. I don’t want to be sick. I don’t want to die.”

 

He covered his face with his hands and cried. “I’m a coward,” he sobbed.

 

Dylan hugged him. “Oh, Isaiah.” He rubbed his back gently. “It’s okay. I understand why you’re afraid. There’s a lot of people out there telling us to be scared, that there’s no hope. But I’m telling you, there is.”

 

He lifted Isaiah’s head. “Those men out there. Do they look sick to you? Are they dying?”

 

Isaiah shook his head.

 

“That’s because they’re free. They don’t feel ashamed to be who they are anymore. You don’t have to feel ashamed, either. If you take that plunge, if you accept the gift… you’ll be more alive than you’ve ever been. You’ve seen it happen to Ryan. Those men can give you that gift.”

 

Isaiah looked at him sadly. “But… I don’t want it that way. I don’t want to be pozzed by all of them. I just want you.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

He took Dylan’s hand and held it to his chest. “I don’t want to share this disease with anyone else. I want to know who gave it to me. I want that person to be you.”

 

Dylan looked at him with wide eyes. “Why me?”

 

“You made me see the world through a whole new light. I spent weeks going to that group because I was scared of the inevitable. I guess… I was trying to prepare myself for what my life would be like when I got the virus. But all I saw was sickness and sadness… until you.” He leaned his forehead against Dylan’s. “I don’t want the virus because I think I need it or because I want to get it over with. I want it because it’ll make me like you. I want it to be ours.”

 

Dylan kissed him gently. “I want that too.” He stood and pulled Isaiah to his feet. “Will you let me share my gift with you?”

 

Isaiah nodded. He kissed him hungrily, holding nothing back this time. Suddenly, the door burst open as Gary walked in, his cock rock hard and dripping as he held a panting Vincent by the back of the neck.

 

“Figured we’d give our little pup a change of scenery,” Gary said with a grin. He threw Vincent on the bed, then climbed on top of him, dwarfing the man with his chubby frame. Vincent moaned as the old man plunged into his hole and started humping away.

 

Dylan laughed. “Come on. I’ll take you to my place.” He kissed Isaiah on the cheek. “Besides, there’s something I want to show you.”

 

They took a cab to his apartment on the Upper West Side. He held Isaiah’s hand the whole drive over, his stomach full of butterflies for what was about to come.

 

When they walked through the door, Isaiah whistled. “Damn. How’d you swing a place like this?”

 

Dylan just smiled and kissed him. He grabbed Isaiah’s hand and pulled him into the bedroom.

 

Isaiah gasped when he saw what was in Dylan’s bed. Ed lay there in his pajamas, practically skin and bones. His eyes were vacant and hollow, and he wheezed slowly with every breath.

 

“Who is this?” Isaiah asked in disbelief.

 

Dylan sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed Ed’s hand. “This is my daddy.” 

 

Isaiah watched him nervously.

 

Dylan brushed Ed’s cheek with his hand. “He’s the person who gave me life. But even though he gave it to me, he couldn’t accept it for himself.”

 

“He… he’s dying of AIDS?”

 

Dylan nodded. “It didn’t have to be that way. He could have accepted the gift, but he chose to live in denial. He chose to let the shame and guilt eat away at him.”

 

He stood. “I won’t lie to you. If you take the gift, this could be your future. You could let the shame win and eat you from the inside out.”

 

He grabbed Isaiah’s hand. “Or you could let it make you new again. Make you like me.”

 

He intertwined his fingers with Isaiah’s hand, staring up at him with wide eyes. “What’ll it be?”

 

Isaiah put his hand behind his head and kissed him. Dylan fell into the kiss, allowing Isaiah to pull off his clothes as Ed wheezed behind them. They disrobed completely until they were both beautifully, fully naked.

 

“I want you to take me,” said Isaiah. He climbed on the bed, his stomach resting against Ed’s wasted legs as he presented his ass to Dylan. “Take me in your daddy’s bed.”

 

Dylan smiled, his heart swelling with love. He spit on his hand, smearing his cock with saliva before plunging into Isaiah’s hole in one fell swoop. To Isaiah’s credit, he didn’t scream or make any noise of pain, although it had to have been painful. Dylan knew that the more torn up Isaiah was inside, the faster he would receive his gift. He made love to him, quickly but tenderly, until his cock was sliding back and forth unencumbered. He could see a bit of blood on his cock as he pounded Isaiah’s hole, knowing that this would only speed the process of conversion.

 

He leaned over Isaiah’s back, pushing him into the bed and onto Ed. “I love you,” he whispered in his ear. “I love you so much, Isaiah.”

 

He could feel the pressure in his balls rising as his breathing grew shallow. He’d never felt anything like this before, knowing that his DNA would mix with Isaiah’s, binding the two men together. They would be forever linked, joined in the lineage of all the heroes who came before them. Then in a moment of blinding pleasure, he felt that sweet, blessed release.

 

“Take my seed!” he shouted, burying his cock in Isaiah’s hole. “Take my gift,” he panted, collapsing against Isaiah’s back.

 

He lay there for several seconds, the room filled with the sound of the two men panting and Ed wheezing. Nothing had ever felt so right, being linked with his creator and the man he had created. They lay there for a while, still joined together as his seed took root deep inside of the man he loved. Finally, Isaiah rolled over underneath him, letting his cock fall out of his freshly seeded hole. He stared at him with tears in his eyes.

 

“I love you too.”

[Menbendovr]

Yet another fantastic installment of this great story.  Loved the juxtaposition of one man’s journey to convert but restrained due to fear but deep down not denying his desire waiting for the moment and the man to convert him while we see another man holding his dark desire to convert repressed due to judgement holding him back from his destiny.   Then when the situation arises where the inevitable will happen he succumbs to that desire and doesn’t flee.   Fantastic writing!

[Menbendovr]

Who will be patient 5?  Vincent or Isaiah?

[PozTalkAuthor]

Definitely the best one! Sounds like a new gifting couple formed. Ready to spread the love.

[JustAFrecklyWriter]

On 4/4/2024 at 4:19 AM, Menbendovr said:

Who will be patient 5?  Vincent or Isaiah?

It will be Isaiah!