The Food of Love

by Bensiamin

Chapter 1

The Food of Love, Cover Picture

This story is Volume 3 of Revelation and Redemption. It does not require reading A Friend of the Devil or We Could Be Heroes, but many story and character details will be much clearer if you do!


This story is dedicated to Mihangel, who provided much needed counsel over the years and always encouraged me to write!


With special thanks to c_m and Al_N for insight, guidance and reading early versions for accuracy!


This is a gay romantic story. It that offends you or is illegal in your location, please do not read on. This story contains graphic scenes, and also takes on significant religious themes. It may not be for everyone, but there is no avoiding the fact that much, if not most, of the problems that LGBTQ people encounter across their lives can be traced directly back to their source in religion.

Hard to believe, I know, but it was the typewriter that did it. I mean, David had a large Smith Corona typewriter that he'd used in seminary and brought with him and used for his sermons and his journal. It sat on his desk in the office in the parsonage, looking very professional. His was a Galaxie model, not a portable in a zip up case, but a big office typewriter in yellow with a full-size keyboard and one of those metal carriage return levers. It was cool, and he loved it, and it had a real smooth mechanism and a nice typeface, sounded so great when he was typing away, and made for real nice finished pages. No wonder he loved it in seminary. It would have made those papers look way professional.

The problem was the large manual keyboard that took a fair amount of finger force to push down the keys. He tried to type on the Smith Corona, but with his arm in a sling that was supposed to be next to his chest, it hurt too much in his shoulder to hold his right arm over the keyboard. And then there was the pain from pushing down on the keys with his right hand, and the shock of the carriage return--even though that was done with his left arm, it still hurt.

It was Friday after the bike wreck and the concussion was slowly clearing, and he wasn't as out of it as he had been and wanted to type up his sermon notes. He had me put paper in the typewriter and pull it out to the edge of his desk and put a couple of pillows on his desk chair, so he was sitting up above the keyboard, and he started to type. Or, actually, he started to try and type, and he winced and tried a different position, and winced again and wiggled around, and winced again and swore this time.

"Fucking A! Why does it have to hurt so much? I'm just trying to type."

I was standing behind him, trying to help him get back into a regular routine after he'd been taken out on his bike by the old lady last Saturday.


After the ambulance picked David up and the cops hauled away his crunched bike, I had to ride home and thank god that Gary was there and drove me to the hospital. I was a mess. I probably would have wrecked the El Camino if I'd driven to the hospital. Gary couldn't believe it happened, tried to calm me down, but I was a really losing it. I mean I thought David was going to die, then when I figured out on the side of the road that he wasn't, but he wasn't taking straight and hurt a lot, then I didn't know what to think. Then I had to watch them load him up and drive away in the ambulance. And then, I had to ride my bike home alone. What a fucking mess.

Anyway, when we got to the hospital Ellen was on duty at the ER and got me straightened out. She saw us come in, came right out to the waiting room and hauled us both into her office and gave us the update that he had a concussion, that they'd already x-rayed his shoulder and there were no broken bones, that it seemed like a soft tissue injury in his right shoulder, a major contusion on his hip, and that we should both calm down.

She was looking straight at me, like she does: real professional and real serious and also real caring, and I just said, "I was so afraid," and she stood up and hugged me so I could cry on her shoulder. I know that's what she was doing, purposefully, trying to get me to get emotional and get it over with on her shoulder and in her office before she took us in to see David. So, I got my crying out of the way, and she hugged me for a while, rocking me back and forth, and told me it would be alright, that he'd be fine, that it'd just take time, and he'd been lucky and I could calm down because the worst was over.

I asked her if she was sure, and she took my shoulders and held herself away from me and stared me down again and asked me if she'd ever been anything but straight with me. I had to smile then, and get my act together, and I told her she'd always been a straight shooter with me, even with the tough stuff, and that's why I loved her so much. So, she hugged me again, then asked Gary if he was Okay. He nodded, but he looked kind of shook up too, so she hugged him as well, and then we were all kind of smiling.

I guess that's the kind of thing that happens when you think you're going to lose the most important thing in your life, and you get the shit scared out of you. Then she told us we were going in to see David, and that the ER doc had been in with him when we got there, and her bet was that he'd be in the hospital overnight because of the concussion.

When we got to the treatment room, the doc had already come and gone, and the ER nurses were getting ready to clean up the road rash on his right hip. That was a dirty bloody mess, and they sprayed some stuff on it to numb the pain and then this one nurse went to work with what looked like liquid soap and a small scrub brush. It was gross, David was groaning, and it looked like she was making hamburger on his hip. I thought I'd throw up, and then it was over. That's when he saw us standing there and smiled.

That smile. That's what made me finally believe what Ellen had said, that he'd be all right. We both walked over to him and I took his hand and he said, "I think I'm gonna make it!" Like always, a study in…what do they call it? Oh, yeah: understatement. A study in understatement! We both grinned at him like a couple of stupid kids and the nurse said she'd be done as soon as she put a bandage on his hip. So, she puts this like eight inch by twelve-inch bandage over the road rash with a bunch of adhesive tape.

After she left I realized Ellen was still standing behind us, and she explained that what we'd just seen was tough but necessary because road rash like that had a lot of dirt and grit in it, and it had to come out to heal properly, and the only way to get it out was scrub it. And, now it was over. She asked David how he felt, and he said he hurt all over. Then she asked if he remembered what the doc had told him, and he kind of looked blank, like he was trying to remember. He tried to talk and sounded groggy, so Ellen stepped in and repeated that he had a mild to moderate concussion and an injured shoulder and hip, and that he'd be staying in the hospital overnight.

She let us spend ten minutes with him, then said we had to leave so he could be admitted. I asked why we couldn't stay, and she said because of the concussion. He was going to have a headache and get meds for it and he'd be asleep soon. And, I'd have to come back and pick him up in the morning.

We said goodbye and when she was walking us out, I asked what time in the morning, and then it dawned on me. Tomorrow morning was Sunday morning. When I said that, she smiled and said it was under control. She'd already called Susan, and they'd do some kind of reading instead of the sermon and the important thing was to get him home and let him start recovering. So, Gary drove me home, and then he called Lois and filled her in, and then I called Dad in Seattle and filled him in, and he made me promise to call him the next day when I got David home. Will was gone for almost two weeks on a vacation with his family, so he'd find out when he got back.

Lois came over that night and we talked about it, and how much worse it could have been, and how lucky we all were it was so-called "minor injuries." I told them the bike frame was totally crunched, so the old lady better have good insurance. Then I asked Gary what he was going to do about the mowing, cause someone had to take care of David, and it looked like that would be me. Lois jumped in and said she'd help, and I didn't need to worry. That's when I grinned for the first time all day, and she said "What?" I told her Ellen had said he'd need real basic help, like going to the bathroom—as in opening his fly and maybe wiping his butt? She looked surprised. "Lois, there's a thing about boy's underwear, it takes two sets of fingers to get your cock out to pee, and if you're right-handed like David is, it's not so easy to wipe your butt with your left hand."

Gary was snickering, and Lois immediately understood and smiled back at me. "You're right, I hadn't thought of the details that way." I went on. "And then there's getting dressed. You know, I'm betting even girls can't put their panties on with one hand, can they?" She grinned at me that time and told me I'd made my point and I could lighten up now! I told her she could really help out with cooking dinner if she was up for that, and then I turned to Gary and asked what he was going to do about the mowing since I wouldn't be able to help this week or next or maybe even the week after that.

He gave me one of those kind of all-knowing, wise-ass kind of looks, and I knew he wasn't serious and then he said, "So, this is why you sold me your half of the business for a dollar, so you could bail out early and not have to work at all this summer? What a light weight!"

I started to say, "That's not fair…" but didn't get the words out when he told me to chill. "Hey, bro, I'm just trying to be funny and lighten it up, Okay. Don't worry about it. Remember the guy we talked about starting to work part-time so he'd be kind of trained up when you split later in the summer for college? Well, he doesn't have another job and needs to be working full time, or at least more than he is, so I can have him do it. Don't worry about it."

So, there I was back at the hospital in the morning driving the El Camino. I got David home and settled on the couch in the living room and let him go back to sleep. I thought he was fine when I got to the hospital and then driving home, but it must have been the stimulus cause when we got home, he said he was tired, and had a headache and seemed kind of dazed. Ellen had told me to expect it, and we talked about it later and he said he felt kind of out of it or in a fog. That's when I called Dad, and those were the questions he was asking me. Was he making sense, could he talk clearly, did he seem groggy? He said I had to watch him closely, because if he wasn't also nauseous and vomiting, it was probably just hitting his head, but if started getting other symptoms, that could mean trouble and I'd have to take him back to the hospital. He asked me if I wanted him to come down and stay with us, and a small part of me wanted it, but I knew he'd have to take time off of work, and there was Gary and Lois, and Susan and Ellen if we needed them, so I said no. But I told him I'd call him every day and let him know how it was going.

David didn't have much of an appetite for a couple of days, but the good news was that he wasn't nauseous or vomiting, and by Thursday said he said he was feeling better. Other than the shoulder in the sling, and the road rash on his hip, and the fact that he still wasn't acting himself! I had to change the bandage each morning so it wouldn't dry and stick to the wound, rub some Neosporin on the gauze dressing and tape it on, and that was gross, but it was already starting to heal. But there was something missing. My Sexy Man was missing.

He was like emotionally flat. There was no humor, and whenever I'd touch him or tell him how much I loved him, it was like he didn't feel or understand what I was saying. It wasn't like he was cold and angry, but there just wasn't the connection.

Susan came by to visit a couple of times, and Ellen did once too, just to check on the patient. They talked to him, and Ellen really quizzed him about his symptoms and how he felt and stuff, and they were happy with how he was doing. Spencer Sullivan, the attorney who was a member of our church stopped by in the middle of the week to see how David was doing, and make sure everything was Okay with Gary and me. He was pretty amazed when I explained our support network to him, and said he'd drop by the end of the week too. After he left, I realized I hadn't let Prof. Higgins know what had happened and called to let him and his wife know.

Lois pretty much spent every evening with us and cooked dinner. I'd do breakfast and lunch, and then she'd come over in the afternoon and get dinner organized and be there when Gary got home. The first few nights we had to cut David's food into bite-sized pieces and the joke was if we needed to feed him by hand too, but he was a good sport about it, even if he was distant.

Thursday night I was helping Lois do the dishes after dinner, and she must have sensed something because she put her arm around my shoulder and asked how I was doing. I mean she didn't just stop there, she said, "I want to know how you're really doing?"

I didn't know what to say. I was embarrassed, and probably showed it, and then it was like, hey, this is Lois! I started to try and tell her, but I couldn't get the words out.

She turned me into her arms and my head was on her shoulder, my face in her neck, and she said, "It's alright, baby. Tell me. How are you feeling."

"I'm feeling alone. It's like a part of David isn't here. He's not all here. He doesn't tell me he loves me. He doesn't touch me. He's not cold, or anything, but like distant. I can't stand it. I don't know what to do."

She hugged me hard after that, and I felt her kissing the top or my head and rocking me back and forth as we stood there in front of the kitchen sink.

"Listen to me. I took Psych with you too. What you're describing is no intimacy, right?"

I guess I nodded my head.

"Jackson, he had a concussion. He had his bell rung. The doc said it's mild, or mild to moderate, whatever. Ellen said it would all be fine. It just takes some time. You've just got to be patient. He's still David. He still loves you. He's just having trouble communicating it to you right now."

I was sobbing now, feeling like such a baby.

"But I don't know if he's going to be fine. I mean, I heard Ellen, but it just feels so different. I know it shouldn't be about me at all, he's the one who got hurt. But what if this is what it's like? What if he doesn't get better? That's what scares me. I love him so much and I'm not feeling anything from him and I, I'm…I mean, I guess I'm just frustrated. And scared. There. I've said it. I'm scared too. I'm really scared that we've lost what we had."

I was crying now, and she was holding me tight and stroking the back of my head, trying to make me feel better.

"Baby, I know it's scary, and I know it's lonely. But Ellen said it's temporary. You've got to believe her and just hang in there. I feel your pain, I mean I'd be the same way if it was Gary instead of David. Don't be afraid, though, Okay. You know why?"

She'd leaned away from me so she could look me in the face, and she wiped the tears out of my eyes with her thumbs. Very softly, pushing the tears to the side so they could roll down my cheeks.

"Don't be afraid, because if you're afraid, you can't be there for him. He needs you now. You have to be strong for him, for the two of you. He just can't do it all yet, and he needs you."

She was looking at me in such a serious and loving way, I felt for a minute like this is the way a Mom is supposed to act when you're a kid. She was right, I was letting the emotion get control of me, and I needed to just be there and help him get through this.

"You're right. I needed you to tell me that too. I'm just hurting, I guess, and I needed to let it out, and thanks for being here for me. You're the best, Lois. You really are. You're not just a great friend. You're family, the kind of family I never had."

'Hey, don't overdo it! We're all in the Fellowship of the Four, remember? We all take care of each other. And in your relationship right now, you're the care giver. That's cool. You're doing a great job, by the way. I've been watching. You're just worried and feeling a little emotional and a little sensitive right now. That's Okay too."

Then she smiled, and we were still looking at each other eye to eye, and then the smile started turning into a grin. "Oh, now I've got it. Now I know what the real problem is."

"What?" She'd really caught me off guard.

"You're not getting any sex, are you? That's the problem. Horny Jackson isn't getting any! Am I right?"

She immediately pulled me into a tight hug as she started laughing. "I can only say that cause I love you so much, but it's true, isn't it?"

My face was against her neck again, and I mumbled, "Yeah, I guess that's part of it. But it's not all of it. I mainly miss the affection."

"Baby," she whispered into my ear, "hang in there, cause the affection will come back."

I looked her in the eyes. This was Lois, my really, really good friend. I asked her, "Can I tell you?" She nodded.

"He isn't interested. He doesn't get hard. We go to bed and cuddle and hug and that's it. I don't know what to do."

"Oh baby, that's got to be difficult, but you have to just be patient. Just love him. It'll happen. Just be there, and don't give up." And then she hugged me and rocked me some more.

That was last night, and now it's Friday morning, and David told me he needed to get organized for Sunday because he'd read the Bible passage and was ready to do his sermon, but he needed to type up his notes. That's when he asked me to help him with the typewriter.


"Fucking A" wasn't a normal part of David's vocabulary. He didn't swear much, so one part of my brain is wondering if something's changed. He looked over his shoulder at me, like really frustrated, and said kinda quietly, "I don't think I can do it."

I reached forward and softly put my hands on his shoulders and kissed the top of his head. I loved the feel of his curly brown hair rubbing against my face, and I went side to side, rubbing the top of his head with my nose, inhaling deeply and smelling him. My David. My Lover. My Sexy Man.

"It's Okay Rev, don't get all worked up. It's only been six days, you know."

"That's the point. It's been almost a week. Now I can't even type. You had to wipe my ass the first couple of days. You've had to cut up my food because I can't use a knife and fork. You've had to comb my hair all week. Now I find out I can't even type!"

"You're not going to cry, are you?" I kissed to top of his head after I said that and gave him a real soft hug.

He didn't say anything for a minute, then slowly said, "No, what's the point. I guess it'll just take time like everything else. But what the fuck. This isn't fun!"

"No, it's not. I know it's not. But you know what? You could have been killed by that car, and then you wouldn't be pissed cause you can't type. You wouldn't be anything. So, it's not all that terrible, right?"

He reached his left hand up over his shoulder and touched my hand on his shoulder. "No, when you think about it that way, it's not so bad. Thanks for being here for me. I've just got to adjust my expectations, right?"

"Yep! You've got a follow up appointment with a doc next week, so maybe there'll be some good news then. Ellen said it'll take time, remember. Not to figure it'd all be fixed in a few days or even a few weeks. Remember?"

"Yeah, yeah, I do."

Now it was my turn. "So, my Sexy Man, I've got an idea." I kissed the top of his head again while I rubbed his shoulders.

"What's that?"

"I'll type and you dictate."

"What? You can type?"

"Well, yeah. I mean I took Touch Typing when I was a sophomore."

"You never told me that. I've never seen you type. Didn't you write out all your papers long hand?"

"Yeah, but I never typed after that class because Bud would never buy me a typewriter. He was too cheap. So, I'm rusty and it'll take a while to get good again, but you know what?"

He glanced back and up at me over his left shoulder, smiling a little. "What?"

"I'll do it for you! If you'll let me."

The smile got wider, and I saw his eyes moisten. He was quiet, and then he said, "You're already doing almost everything for me."

"Yeah, so what. You're my boyfriend. We're 'us,' remember? I don't have anything more important to do. You spent most of the last year helping me and Gary and now it's your turn. Yeah, yeah, I know it's different, this is physical, but will you just give it up and accept the help. Everyone just wants to help you, and that includes me. And hey, if this helps me get my typing up to speed that'll be way cool for college, because I don't think I want to be doing long hand papers if I don't have to."

That gave him the excuse he needed. There was something in it for me, it wasn't all about helping him do what he couldn't do himself. It had only taken a few days and I'd figured out the psychology. He had a hard time accepting help, not being self-sufficient. But if I could make it work for both of us, and, if helping him helped someone else, he'd go for it. Good thing I took psychology last year!

"Okay, and you're right, it'll help you too."

"So, now you've got to go sit in the chair right over here. Then you start dictating to me slowly, and I'll type for you."

He moved and after I got him comfortable, I sat down at the desk and said, "Okay, Rev, ready to go."

He looked at me kind of blank.

"What?"

"I've never given dictation before. I'm not sure how to do it."

"Well, I sure don't but I'm guessing you have to tell me what to do, like give me instructions, as well as tell me what you want typed."

He nodded. I went on, "Like, what's the title? What's this called?"

He smiled a little. "Okay, top line, in caps is the passage reference for the sermon. Matthew ten twenty-six to thirty-three."

"What? How do I type that? I don't know what that is."

"Oh, sorry. So, Bible verses are printed numerically with the name of the book, and then the chapter number followed by the verse, with a colon between the chapter number and the verses number."

"Where the fuck is the colon?" I looked at him sideways and started giggling, trying to lighten it up.

He rolled his eyes. "I thought you said you took Touch Typing?"

"Well yeah, but it was over two years ago. I've forgotten some stuff. Now, let's see, does the colon have the dot down below or the comma? I know it's on here somewhere." I'd lifted my hands up in the air with the fingers hanging down like you see classical pianists do, and then started flitting them around on the keyboard. I snuck a look at him sitting in his chair and gave him a little grin.

He'd been watching me, and his smile broke into a grin. "This won't be fast, will it?"

"No, Rev. Probably not. But you know what, you've got all day…and so do I. We can work this out. Alright! Here's that lost colon. It was hiding over here on the right, above the semicolon. Can you believe that. They didn't give the little guy his own key. I mean look at this typewriter. All this space, all these keys, and they double those guys up. It just doesn't seem fair."

He was still grinning, which I figured was a good sign.

I pecked away, with all my fingers on the keyboard, but I definitely wasn't touch typing. 'Okay, there we go: Matthew 10: 26-33. Now what?"

I looked at him, knowing I was full-on grinning and my dimples were flaring because I knew he loved it and I was trying to make him happy. "See, I'm a little slow, but we're getting there. We've got the title done already. That's progress, man!"

He rolled his eyes and started laughing. Great! Mission accomplished.

I left the desk chair and walked over so I could carefully kneel down between his legs and carefully slip my right arm around his left side and lean in and kiss his neck while not leaning on his right arm in the sling.

I nuzzled his neck and said, "What's that line from Shakespeare about how many ways I love you?"

Now he laughed. "Close, but no cigar. It's not Shakespeare, but Elizabeth Barrett Browning, and the line is "How do I love thee? Let me count the ways!"

"Well, whatever! I love you all those ways. Including the typing way. So, let's just go slow and make this work, Okay. We'll get this typed up and you can give your sermon on Sunday. You know how important that is. I mean, the congregation had to go without last Sunday, so they're all going to be like dying for it this Sunday, so we've got to get it right."

He was stroking the side of my face with his left hand. "You're right, and thanks for being such a good sport. I'll chill out, and we'll go slow and we'll get this done. And thanks for offering to type for me."

It took us almost three hours, and that included time outs to talk about touch typing techniques, like when he said I was supposed to suspend my fingers over the middle row of keys and leave the "G" and "H" keys visible. But, of course, I wasn't supposed to look at the keyboard cause this was Touch Typing! We finally negotiated a settlement that I was still rusty and got to look at the keyboard until I got my touch back, and I'd work on it, but in the meantime he just had to do the dictation slowly so I could type it and we could get through this project.

Lois was over in the afternoon, and had dinner going by the time Gary got home. It was going to be spaghetti with spicy Italian sausage in a tomato sauce, and I was helping her do the salad and garlic bread. Gary came in the kitchen door, gave Lois a hug and a kiss, then came over to give me a hug and asked how David was doing. I told them about me doing the typing because he couldn't type, and they wanted to know how that went. I said it was a challenge, but they should ask him, so we were all part of the conversation. Gary said he was going to go say "Hi," and disappeared.

At that point Lois looked over at me and said something about how much fun the typing exercise must have been. I rolled my eyes and told her it took forever, but mainly because it had been so long since I took typing. She laughed and told me I should have called her cause she types all the time! Where are your friends when you need them.?

When we all sat down to eat in the kitchen, Lois very casually slipped in a comment about how she'd heard that I'd helped David get his sermon notes organized. He looked up, not even surprised, and said it wouldn't have happened without me. Lois wasn't going to let it go at that and asked something about the typing part. David smiled at that, and said he finally figured out that he couldn't type with his arm in a sling, and his Lover Boy had stepped up and done the typing for him! That was the first expression of intimacy he'd used all week, and it was usually one we kept private, like between ourselves. And here he used it in front of Lois and Gary, and it didn't seem to register for him that it might have been new for them or a surprise. Lois is pretty smart though, and she just said something like "That's so sweet," and let it go. She did give me the eye though, like "I've got something on you now!" Ha, ha! We'll see where that goes.

Spencer called after dinner to let me know that he'd heard from the old lady's insurance company, and she was fully insured, and all the medical costs and replacement of David's bike would be covered. That was a relief. I asked him if that meant they'd pay for a new bike. He said that they could probably take the position that they'd only pay the depreciated value of the old bike, but somehow, he didn't think it would be an issue. When I asked why, he told me because she was at fault and plowed right into him, and there was no defense, and if her insurance company became difficult to deal with, they were opening themselves up for a lawsuit. Oh, Okay!

I told him I figured it would be a while before we'd be shopping for a new bike anyway, and then filled him in on how David was recovering. He apologized for not stopping by, but said he'd had a really busy couple of days, but would see us Sunday at church. I kind of laughed, and he asked me what was so funny, and I told him the whole typewriter and typing story. He thought it was pretty funny, and then paused, and told me we'd talk during coffee hour, because he might have a solution for us.

After we hung up, I wondered if he was going to hire some kind of secretary or stenographer for David. That would be wild!

I called Dad to fill him in and had to tell him the whole typing story too. He thought it was kind of cute and told me what a good caregiver I was! He was seriously quizzing me, though, about how David was doing, and I was trying to dance around the fact that he was still distant. He saw right through it and wasn't buying my story. Finally, after asking a bunch of questions, he just said, "Tell me what's going on. Is he back to normal? Do you have your boyfriend back yet?"

I stammered for a response and asked him what he meant. He was so cool. He told me to quit bullshitting him, that I'd said everything but what was going on all week, and he could read between the lines and could tell I was hurting and felt like something was missing. I couldn't dodge that and we kind of talked like Lois had talked to me, about the missing intimacy, and he was so great. He just asked me if he was healing physically, like is the road rash healing? Are the bruises healing? Does he hurt less? I said yes. Then he told me what I needed to hear, that the brain heals slower than the body, and I shouldn't doubt that he loved me, and that the intimacy would return but it would happen in its own time. He told me just not to let myself get frustrated.

By the time I got off the phone, Gary and Lois had the dishes and kitchen cleaned up, and they were in the living room with David. I told them that Dad and Spencer said 'Hi', and that the old lady's insurance would be covering all the costs. That got a smile, and then I asked him how it was going with the new guy.

He smiled at me and said, "He's not as good as you, that's for sure."

That made me feel great, like I wasn't such a light weight in the business after all. "Is he going to work out? Can he work all the hours that you need?"

Gary nodded and said 'yeah,' and told me to chill and quit worrying. The new guy was getting up to speed, but it was only running a mower and a string trimmer, and it wasn't rocket science! He grinned like crazy when he said that, and it took the edge off.

"I've just been feeling bad that I haven't been pulling my weight and I've let you down, that's all."

I was still standing in front of the coffee table, and Gary and Lois were sitting next to each other on the couch. He stood up and put out his arm and said, "Come here, bro."

I did and he pulled me in for a hug, and then pulled me down onto the couch so I ended up between him and Lois, and she jumped on and suddenly it was a hug-a-thon, and I was on the receiving end. I have to say, it didn't feel so bad. All that warmth and love and affection. We ended up giggling and holding each other, and when it lightened up, I looked over at David who was sitting in an armchair watching. He was smiling.

He simply said, "You guys are the best. I hope you know that."

We all grinned back at him, and Lois said, "David, we're the Fellowship of the Four. Do you know what's missing?"

He looked at her like he wasn't sure.

She said, "You're missing. We need you to come over here and join us on this couch. We won't hurt your shoulder. There's something important missing over here, and it's you."

He smiled, and I was watching his eyes, and I could see the dots connecting in his mind, and then he slowly got up and walked over to the couch and carefully sat down to join us. Lois put her arm gingerly around his shoulder. "We all love you David. We're only a real team when you're part of it."

He smiled and leaned his head on her shoulder. I thought I was going to cry, and I could see Gary getting emotional too. But that's all there was. Lois had closed the gap, gotten us all reconnected, and we just sat there enjoying the vibe that was going on.

Later when we went to bed, I was still pretty emotional after the scene on the couch, and after we'd done our bathroom routine and I'd gotten him into bed and slid up next to him, softly stroking his pecs and his belly, and then dancing my fingertips in his pubes, I could feel his breathing pick up, but besides having an arm on my shoulder, and kissing the side of my face, there was no other response. I reached down and held his cock, that beautiful cock that I've come to love, and I felt it start to harden, but it only got half-way and that was that.

I remembered what Lois and Dad had said and decided not to take it personally. I was still holding his cock and leaned up and kissed his ear, and whispered how much I loved him and that we were "us," and that he made me whole and he was the love of my life. I heard him sigh, and he turned his head my way and kissed my forehead. That was enough for me. He was responding.

Saturday was a beautiful June day in the Willamette Valley. It would have been a fabulous day to ride the BMX track, or go on a hike or go to that cross-country course at the county park up by Susan and Ellen's house. But those things weren't happening for us. I made breakfast, and then Gary headed out for his Saturday mowing jobs. Then after I'd cleaned up the kitchen, I told David we were doing something special because he had his sermon all done for tomorrow. He smiled, and I could see some sparkle in his eyes. "What's that? What have you got planned?"

"We're going to the beach. It's a beautiful sunny day, and we'll go to Gearhart where we met that lady and her dog Pre last year, and then we'll go to Canon Beach, and we'll have lunch and walk in the sun on the beach. What do you think?"

He said, "I think that sounds cool." That was a good sign. Before we left, I called his brother Michael because when I'd called early in the week to tell him about the accident, he asked me to call him back mid-day on Saturday eastern time to give him an update. He was happy to hear David was recovering, and asked if he could talk to David for a few minutes. Michael was cool and told me he was still working on dates to come visit later in the summer. They talked for a few minutes while I got us organized to go, and then we headed for the coast.

The traffic was moderate, and it seemed like we were at Gearhart in no time. It was great because there was only a light breeze and not too many people, and we could just hold hands and walk along the beach. We alternated walking on the hard, wet sand where the tide had gone out, and then down in the edge of the surf, where the water and the soft, wet sand played around your feet, squishing in and out of your toes as you walked. It was just fun. We got way up the beach to the north and found a cool place to sit, watching the surf. I sat down, leaning against a washed-up beach log, and pulled his left hand, and he slowly sat down…between my legs…leaning back on my chest. I could carefully wrap my arms around him and give him a light hug without hurting his shoulder, and it was so cool. It was also like the reverse of last summer, but that was Okay—it's where we were right then.

I could feel him relax as I hugged him, and his back was leaning back on my chest, so I could rest my cheek against his, and we just sat and watched the waves come in and the surf break on the beach, and then run back down into the ocean to start the cycle all over again. Finally, he tipped his head back and kissed my cheek. I didn't say anything. I just felt it, and I felt the beginning of tears. He was kissing me. He was initiating it. It was so awesome. Small stuff, but so awesome. I felt like my David was coming back to me.

We drove down to Cannon Beach and had a late lunch at a restaurant overlooking the beach, then walked on the beach a little more, and then headed home. Lois and Gary were out on a date, so we had left over spaghetti for dinner, and that was cool. Then we listened to music for a while and out of the blue, David turned to me, reached up with his left hand and stroked by cheek and said, "Can we go to bed now, Lover Boy?"

It was the best feeling I'd ever had in my life. I didn't want to get my hopes up, but I'd seen him coming back, inch by inch, step by step, the last couple of days, and to quote, I think it was Wordsworth, "my heart leapt for joy."

I turned off the music and the lights downstairs and we headed up, and after the bathroom circuit I got him comfortably in bed, and brushed my teeth, and then slipped in beside him. He still had on a T-shirt and his boxers. I was naked. I snuggled up next to him, and he was laying there on his left side, his eyes sparkling in the light, just looking at me and smiling.

"You know how much I love you, don't you?"

I was quiet, just watching his eyes.

His smile deepened, and he reached up his hand and stroked my face. "I do, I love you so much I can't express it. Thanks for taking me to the beach today. I think that's just what the doctor ordered. Somehow, it kind of started realigning everything inside my head."

"I'm so glad. I'm just happy you had a good time."

"I had a lovely time. Mainly it was because I was with you. The beach and the ocean and the weather were beautiful, but mainly it was because I was with you. My Lover Boy."

He was stroking my cheek and down my neck now, and then ran his hands out onto my chest and rubbed my pecs. "I'm not very dexterous while I'm wearing this sling, but I'll do what I can."

I couldn't say anything. I was at a loss for words. My David was back. I could feel the tears forming in my eyes, and I could see him see them, and he said, "What."

"Nothing, just you. I love you so much. You make me feel so good."

He leaned over and kissed my eyes, and licked the tears away, like a mother cat does, like he'd done before. That's when I knew he was back. It wasn't about getting a hard on, it wasn't about fucking. It was right there, and he was still in his boxers. It was that compassion and intimacy that was David. The fog had cleared, my Sexy Man was back.

I kissed him back as sensuously as I dared, and he responded slowly, and that was fine. I realized something else too. It was really important not to push. I had a hard on, and he didn't. If he felt mine and responded, then fine. If he didn't, then fine too. He wasn't physical yet, and I realized that probably the worst thing I could do was push this physically. I needed to let him lead, let him move at his own pace, let him take us along as his body was feeling it. Because sooner or later, tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after, he'd be there. That's all I needed to know.

And that's when I knew in a completely new way, that I'd grown up. That's when I realized that the "us" we'd been talking about and experiencing was really real. But it was also delicate, something to cherish (to quote The Association), and something that now, in this time of his recovery, I needed to be very sensitive about.

We woke the next morning as the sunlight streamed in the bedroom window. There had been no sex the night before, but he had kissed me, and stroked my face and chest, he'd been intimate and caring and sensuous. And, I was happy.

Like usual, I cooked breakfast, and then we did our morning bathroom routine, and I had to dress him. The whole week had been wipe downs with a wash cloth, but he really wanted a shower, so I managed to figure out a way to cover his sling with a garbage bag and he had to kind of stand sideways so he wasn't shooting water from the shower head into the bag…and then I washed him. Washing his hair was the hardest part, but after we got the shampooing part out of the way, I had to wash the rest of his body. As in, I "had" to wash his body, because with just one left hand there isn't that much you can reach. We had some nice lavender soap, and it made great suds, and so I was able to get his body wet and slowly soap his body, then slowly go over it with the suds to make sure he was clean, and make sure he felt me making sure he was clean! And he did, I could hear him sigh as I stroked up his legs, and softly held his balls, then as I stroked down his arm and up and down his chest and abdomen…of course, ending by stroking down his abdomen to his pubes and his half-hard cock. When I took it in my hand, I looked up at him, and his eyes were closed, and he was smiling.

I slowly stroked him, and he got a little harder, but didn't get a full hard on. He reached up his left hand and stroked my face, and his eyes opened, and he looked at me, like deep and penetrating, and his smile was radiant, and he whispered, "I'm almost there, Lover Boy. Can you hold on for me?"

Again, "my heart leapt for joy!" I reached up and took his face in my hands and kissed him. "I can wait forever for you."

He seemed to know what I meant, and we just stood there in a soft embrace for another minute or so. Then I told him we need to get a move on, and we got out of the shower and I dried him off. The boxers and T-shirt and socks and trousers were easy. Even the clergy shirt was easy. But getting that snap-on white plastic collar in place was a total challenge. You'd think I'd never done anything with my fingers. I kept dropping it, and finally he said, "I've got an idea. We'll do this like a bow tie. I'll sit down on the chair, and you stand behind me. Then it'll be more like you're putting it on yourself instead of like you're having to do some reverse thing from the front."

I thought, "What the fuck. Nothing else has worked." And sure enough, it worked. I slipped one side in, then hooked it to the top button, then slipped the other under the collar, and we were done.

"How'd that work so easy?"

"I don't know. Maybe because you learn so fast." He was grinning.

"Seriously?"

"I meant the part about tying a bow tie. It's always easier if you're doing it for someone else that you do it from behind them and reach over their shoulders, because it's more like you're tying your own tie on your own neck."

I smiled at him, but was secretly thinking to myself, "My Sexy Man's brain has left the fog bank!"

Everyone was happy to see him at church, and Susan had the service so organized, all he had to do was walk in, lead his part of the service and give his sermon.

One of the Elders read the Gospel passage from Matthew, the one that had helped me learn how you type the name and reference for a passage!

Therefore, do not be afraid of them. Nothing is concealed that will not be revealed, nor secret that will not be known. What I say to you in the darkness, speak in the light; what you hear whispered, proclaim on the housetops. And do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather, be afraid of the one who can destroy both soul and body in Gehenna. Are not two sparrows sold for a small coin? Yet not one of them falls to the ground without your Father's knowledge. Even all the hairs of your head are counted. So, do not be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. Everyone who acknowledges me before others I will acknowledge before my heavenly Father. But whoever denies me before others, I will deny before my heavenly Father.

I was really impressed with how David handled his sermon, because in the end it was so personal. He started out apologizing for missing last Sunday's service, but kind of brushed it off like 'life is full of surprises,' then started talking about the parts of the passage, the context, what Jesus was saying to the audience. Then he made it personal but pointing out that what Jesus is describing should be of great concern to the disciples. It sounds like tough times are ahead, and they are. But he's reminding them that they don't have to have all the answers. In the context of the passage, the message is that in God's time all will be made clear. It made me think of the patience and trust I'd had to have in the last week, even if I don't believe in God any more…and I'm not sure I ever did. Ellen had said similar things to me. I wondered if David had had similar thought as he put this message together in his mind.

He went on from there to talk about courage. In the passage it means courage under persecution, but after talking about that, he expanded it to talk about courage and fear in general. Like, in the reading, Jesus mentions fear five times, and so he's acknowledging that it's real and it is sometimes part of our lives. But the larger point isn't just that we might fear certain situations or events, but that if we believe, if we know what we believe in, if we know what is right and true, we have nothing to fear from the reactions of others. We only fear in the face of the unknown, when we face the unknown, or if we don't know our own self.

I hadn't really understood what he was saying when I typed his sermon notes for him, but now that I listened to him give his sermon, the way he emphasized certain words and phrases, what really stood out was the last point. There are lots of times we face the unknown, like a calamity, or getting hit by a car…and we're right to be fearful. But the bigger and most important fear to understand and conquer is the fear that comes along with not knowing and not being true to ourselves. Because when we're not true to ourselves, we're living a lie, and lots of stuff, maybe most of life, can make us afraid because it can expose us.

As that realization was dawning on me, I realized I was sitting in the pew smiling, and the smile was getting broader and finally turned into a grin. And David was smiling back at me, because we were moving together to a point in time where we were going to be one hundred percent true to ourselves, to each other, and then we would have nothing to fear. As the sermon ended, I could see it in his eyes. I hoped he could see it in mine.

During coffee hour, we chatted briefly with Susan and Ellen, and Susan said, "We don't have time now, but before long we all need to have a full discussion of the implications of the message in your sermon. It was magnificent." David graciously said he'd be happy to whenever it was convenient…and next thing you knew, we had a dinner invitation.

It wasn't long after that conversation that Spencer and his wife joined us, and after the usual comments about a great sermon, he said, "I understand from Jackson that you currently have a little problem operating a manual typewriter." He had a wide smile on his face, and his eyes were sparkling, and you just knew it was all a setup.

The normal David would have known that, but he was still a little slow, so he acted surprised that Spencer knew, then acknowledged that it turned out he couldn't type because of the sling and the pain from pushing down the keys.

Spence grinned at him. "What would you say if I told you I have a solution for your problem?"

David looked at him, unsure at first, then realizing who was saying this, and then said, "I'm all ears."

Spencer grinned and squeezed his hand. "Great. Here's the deal. We're in the process of upgrading all the equipment in our legal offices. I mean new copier machines, new fax machines and new typewriters." He let it hang.

David said, "Yeah? That sounds expensive."

Spencer went on. "Yeah, it is, but it's a good investment. David, have you ever heard of an IBM Selectric?"

"I guess I've heard of them, but I don't' really know the details." Which meant, of course, he didn't know anything about them, but had to appear to be somewhat knowledgeable. I was grinning inside to myself because that meant David was back. Not being a know-it-all asshole, but having to maintain a certain level of general knowledge. Yeah!

"So, here's the deal. IBM makes the greatest electric typewriter, for a few reasons. First, it doesn't use individual typebars, it uses this totally amazing typing element that looks like a metal ball and has the letters all spread around the ball and it flies around inside the typewriter like a rocket and hits the paper. So, no pressure on the keys, no carriage return, and it's fast. Like you hit a key and the type ball flies out and rotates in the air and hits the ribbon and flies back…and it's just amazing to watch. And it's all effortless."

After Friday's experience with his Smith Corona, I could see David's eyes widen and his interest peak. "Really, it's that easy."

"Oh yeah. You'll love it. And there's one other thing. What do you do about errors? I mean typing errors. Are you still using those dumb white out strips that you put over the paper and then back up and try to re-type the letters you hit by mistake?"

He nodded.

"Well, the new model Selectric has a built-in correction ribbon. So, if you make an error, you just engage it and hit the key you struck by mistake, and the error is corrected. You don't have to find and lift up a piece of correction paper…which might be hard to do with a bum shoulder. Do you get the picture?"

"Well, kind of. It sounds really cool. But what are you getting at? I've got a typewriter."

Spencer was almost laughing. "You just don't get it, do you? Your manual typewriter won't work for you now, and won't work for quite a while. An IBM Selectric will work for you, and I'll bet money on it. So, here's the deal. Tomorrow you're coming down to my office and you're going to try one out. Jackson, can you promise me you can load him up and get him down there between 10:00 and 11:00 in the morning?"

I nodded, and I know I was grinning too

"So, if it works for you, David, like I think it will work for you, you're going to get an IBM Selectric, because I've arranged for you to get our corporate price on it. The only problem is that you won't get a choice in colors. You'll have to go with gray, because we've ordered twenty of them in gray. What do you say?"

David was smiling widely now, realizing that in the end this was all about him, and trying to help him out, and that he had a lot of friends who really cared about him. I could see the emotion in his eyes.

"Thanks, Spencer. I really appreciate it, and as you say, Jackson will be sure to load me up and have me down there in the morning."

He paused and looked around at Spencer and his wife and Susan and Ellen. "You guys know you're the most important people in the world to me, don't you? Thanks for thinking of me like this, Spencer."


Finally, on Sunday night, it was like the gray clouds lifted. After Lois had prepared dinner and we'd all eaten, Gary and Lois went off on a date to a movie. David and I spent the evening reading and listening to music. We were sitting together on the couch and about 8:30 I felt his arm slip down from around my shoulder and slide down my arm. It was a stroking feeling, and his fingers ran out across the back of my right hand and then along the tops of the fingers. He hadn't done something sensuous like this since the bike wreck.

I looked over at him, and he was smiling at me, and I felt him walk the fingers of that hand up my arm, across my shoulder, up my neck and across my cheek, where he paused. He stroked by cheek. Then he touched my lips with his fingertips. I was watching his eyes and smiling, happy that he was initiating something intimate.

He brought his fingertips to his lips and kissed them, then placed them on my lips so I could kiss them too. He was looking directly into my eyes when he said, "You know how much I love you, don't you? I'm sorry if I've been out of it since the bike wreck. But I love you so much for taking care of me and putting up with whatever I've been like."

I didn't know what to say for a minute, then reached up and stroked his cheek. "You don't need to apologize to me for anything. I love you more than life. I told you, it's not a big deal. Now it's my turn to take care of you."

"I know," he whispered softly, still stroking my cheek, "but I feel like I've been out of it for a while and am just coming back…and, and I don't know, I just need to tell you how much I love you. That's all."

I leaned over and reached up and took his fingers in mine, putting our books down with my other hand, and then reaching around to embrace him and slowly and carefully kiss him. Our lips touched tentatively, and I saw the light in his eyes, and I opened my mouth and flicked my tongue on his lips, and they opened. When I flicked my tongue inside, his tongue was there, and it responded. For the first time since the bike wreck, he was kissing me in a way that felt like more than a peck from an old aunt.

He was kissing me! For fucks sake, he was kissing me! He was back. Or at least he was on his way back and his loving side was coming back to life. I felt him kiss me back, and it was almost like I could feel him struggle to make the connections inside, the connections that made his passion happen. The desire was there, I could feel it, but he was having trouble connecting all the wires, or something. I knew he needed to touch, to feel deep down that we were together, that we were one, that we were sharing the same unique sparks that were in our lives.

I stopped kissing him and raised up, so I was on my knees on the couch and whispered, "Go with me, Okay?"

Then I leaned my forehead on his, while I ran my fingers through the hair on the sides of his head, gently stroking his scalp. I heard him groan softly, so I slid my face down so my right cheek was rubbing on his left cheek, then back up and over and down so my left cheek was rubbing on his right one. His eyes were closed, and his groaning had become more sensuous. I could see sensations happening on his face.

That's when I felt his left hand slide up my back and over my neck and onto the back of my head, his fingers in my hair, his fingertips stroking my scalp, and he took over and initiated the kissing. He was pulling my head toward him with his one hand on the back of my head. Our lips opened and I felt something I'd worried would never happen again, that wonderful dance that our tongues did when we were kissing passionately. He was getting more passionate, his breathing was getting more rapid, and the groans were becoming soft moans.

The passion was back! I felt a wash of emotion and pulled him closer to me, making sure that I didn't lean into his injured shoulder, but trying to give him back all the feeling he was sending to me. It seemed like he'd come to life, and it was washing away all the feeling of emptiness and loneliness I'd been feeling for the last week.

We kissed like that for a few minutes, then settled back to just snuggling together on the couch. I was so happy, and David was stroking the back of my head with his left arm.

I leaned up and kissed his chin and licked below his jaw line, ending up kissing his cheek. "I love you so much. So, so much."

"Me too," he said softly, kissing the top of my head. I decided not to push my luck, and we sat together like that for a while. Later when we went upstairs, I helped him get out of his clothes and into a T-shirt with his boxers, brush his teeth and stuff, and then slip into bed. I carefully leaned against his left side, kissing his cheek and stroking his chest and belly under his T-shirt.

"That feels so good. I love you Jackson."

"Me too. Tell me how this feels!" I slipped my hand under the waist of his boxers and my fingertips were playing in his pubes. He moaned softly, but this time I could feel him getting hard, and I slipped down and took his cock in my hand. That beautiful cock that I loved, that had made me feel so wonderful so many times. It was hard. My Sexy Man was back.

"David, My Sexy Man," I whispered, "I'm going to take your boxers off, Okay?"

He softly whispered, "Yes."

I tossed the sheets back, and then moved between his legs and slowly pulled down his boxers as he raised his butt. He was standing proud, and there was just enough light in the bedroom to illuminate his body, and let me see his cock standing up. I stroked him slowly, then took him in my mouth, and I heard him gasp deeply. When he came it was a deep and convulsive kind of sound, and I happily took all he shot in my mouth.

Then he held me tight and whispered, "Oh my god, oh my god."

After a couple of seconds, he also said, "How do I love thee? Let me count the ways!"


It turned out that loading him up, as Spencer had put it, wasn't hard at all. When we got up Monday morning, it just felt like David was back. Sure, he still had road rash on his hip and his shoulder hurt and was in a sling, but he was smiling and happy, and almost kidding around, asking what he could do to help with breakfast, and then begging off on washing dishes because it was just too hard to do with an arm in a sling! What a cop out! Anyway, who cares? I didn't. I was happy, feeling kind of like I did at Christmas, just warm and happy all over.

When we got to Spencer's office, he had it all organized and had planned on making a production of it. He led us back to his office and introduced us to his legal administrative assistant, and had her show us the Selectric, and explain how it worked and all its features. She really got his attention when she told him it was possible to change a setting in the typewriter and get a type ball that had Hebrew characters! Whoa! Like, how cool was that! Then she fed a piece of paper in and started typing. And, she was a whiz, as in the fastest typist I've ever seen, and her fingers were flying across the keyboard, and the type ball was moving so fast inside the typewriter I could barely make out its shape. David was blown away. Then she showed him how the correction part worked, and it was totally impressive that you could correct an error like that, from the keyboard, without having to lift a finger…that is, lift a finger off the keyboard!

I stood back with Spencer, and we were grinning at each other, watching the two of them do their typing thing, and then she stood up and had David sit in her secretary chair, and helped him kind of angle the chair and his body to the keyboard so he could get the fingers of his right hand with the sling over the key board, and told him to start typing something. He started out real gingerly, like he expected it to hurt, but it took so little effort it didn't. And you could see the dawning realization on his face, and then he looked up at her and said, "Wow! This is so great. I almost don't believe it."

She smiled at him and said, "I knew it would be easy to use, but I didn't believe the IBM sales rep when he told me how fast you can type on this machine with no problem, and he was right. It's like greased lightning!"

We all cracked up at that, and Spencer asked David if he was convinced. He nodded, smiling like a kid. Spencer took over from there, looking at me. "Can you carry one of these into the house when you get home?"

I nodded. He went on, "Okay, great. I'll have our office manager put the one I ordered for you in the back of the El Camino. They take special IBM ribbons and correction tape, but you can just get them here from us. This is all at our cost, and I don't want any argument about the price, Okay. None."

I was grinning it was so funny to watch, because David was kind of speechless, and usually he would be arguing about what was a fair price and all that. Not today. He was humble like a lamb. So, we wrapped up and he thanked Spencer and his admin, and we drove to the parsonage where I set the Selectric up in the office. It was brand spanking new and just shone in there, looking so cool.

I knew what he wanted to do, so I fed a sheet of paper in and kissed him. "You get comfortable and type for a while, get used to it. I'm going home to make lunch. You come over in twenty minutes or so, Okay? Remember, we've got your appointment with the orthopedic guy at 2:00 PM, and have to leave for McMinnville by 1:15 or so."

He smiled back and said it sounded like a plan. I heard him come in the front door, and when he walked in the kitchen he was actually grinning. I raised by eyebrows in a "what gives" kind of expression, and he said, "That machine is so cool. I just can't believe it. It is so easy to use, and so, so…I don't know, so efficient. It's just a dream to use."

I grinned back. "Far out. Another happy camper. Now sit down and have lunch, cause we've got to get this show on the road before long."

The ortho appointment actually wasn't a big deal. He did a few minor tests, asking David to try to raise his arm in front of him and to the side with his thumb up and then with his thumb down. Then he told us it just confirmed what the X-ray showed: no broken bones in the shoulder, but a mild rotator cuff tear and some significant shoulder bruising. He then gave David a cortisone shot in the shoulder. I mean, IN the shoulder with this long needle, and David winced and groaned as it went in, and I thought I'd puke again, but then it was over. The word was that his shoulder would start feeling better within two days, and that starting in a week he'd need to begin a couple of weeks of physical therapy, and then he should be fine…as long as he did nothing to re-injure the shoulder. Meaning, of course, no biking or kayaking or swimming or activity that actively engaged the shoulder for three or four months.

That's when I said, "That means the whole summer." The doc nodded and said, "Yes, that's what it's going to take, but he should have a complete recovery if you do it. That should be worth it, and there are lots of other activities you can do instead. The physical therapy is mainly to reestablish the range of motion. You haven't lost much muscle strength at all. But you need to go slow and be careful, and you'll be fine."

I wanted to ask when he'd be able to jack off, but decided that would be uncool. The doc was trying to be helpful!

That evening Spencer called wanting to know if David had been playing around with his new toy. We both had a good laugh about that, and he was thrilled that the typewriter was working so well. I told him to wait a couple of days and he'd be getting rave reviews because David had gotten a cortisone shot in his shoulder in the afternoon and it should be kicking in within a day or two. Spencer was happy and asked me if I thought David would be up to having lunch with him in a couple of days. I told him that he was back, and he seemed to understand what I was getting at. He asked how I'd handled the last week with the concussion and playing nurse, and I told him I got along just fine.

Then he said, "Jackson, I'm not just your lawyer, I'm your friend too. I'm asking how you're doing."

That was a shock, and I realized it was true, and we had a kind of mini talk like I'd had with Dad and told him how worried I'd been about David being in a fog all week, but he'd come back on Saturday when I took him to the beach, and he had to know it cause he heard David give his sermon on Sunday. He said he did see it and was happy the symptoms from the concussion were almost gone, but he was asking about me. The guy wouldn't give up!

"Jackson, I'm pretty sure David told you that he told me about you guys. He said you have no secrets. That's why I'm pressing you. I want to make sure you're Okay too."

Then I got it. I didn't have to be hung up because he was an attorney and on Session at Church. He was our friend, like Susan and Ellen. I apologized for being slow and told him that it had been an emotional roller coaster and how afraid I'd been that David wouldn't come back and that we'd lose what we had…and left it there. He understood, and we just kind of talked for a couple of minutes about healing and being patient. Then he asked, "So David's back now? You're feeling Okay? I don't need any details. I just want to know you're both doing good."

I told him we were, and that it had been great since we went to the beach Saturday. I decided to leave out the sex details! He probably didn't want to know. He said something really nice about being thrilled for both of us and asked if I'd put David on, and when they got done talking, David told me they were having lunch on Wednesday. "I get to ride in that fancy BMW again!" He was grinning, and that was a good sign.

Later, after dinner was cleaned up and Lois had gone home, I led him upstairs and hoping I could pull off part two of my plan to bring him back. I did a quick bathroom clean up, and when I came back in the bedroom, he was sitting on the foot of the bed waiting. I made him stand up, and made a big deal out of making out with him, and I could hear him get into it, his breathing getting fast and hard, his hands stroking my back and running up the back of my head. I slowly took his clothes off, and he wasn't any longer hanging onto some idea he needed boxers and a T-shirt. When I started kissing and licking down his chest and belly, I could hear him gasping, and when I took hold of his cock it was totally hard. He wasn't saying anything, but I could hear the passion in his breathing and when I leaned back, I could see it in his eyes.

I kissed my fingertips and put them on his lips. "Shush, don't say anything. Just let me love you."

He smiled, and I felt my heart swell. I dropped to my knees, kissing his pubes and then down his cock, and then taking his head in my mouth. He was really responding now. He was holding the sides of my head, and I could feel his pelvis just beginning to thrust. I slid my hand up between his thighs, and into his crack, and carefully stroked his opening. He thrust harder. Yes! It was working. Or, maybe it wasn't that what I was doing was working, maybe we were just in synch again, but either way, who cares! It was the same thing.

I released his cock and stood up and nuzzled his neck and kissed him, all the time holding his cock, then whispered in his ear, "David, I really need you inside me. Will you fuck me, please?"

There was no hesitation. He pulled me tight, and whispered in my ear, "You're my Lover Boy, I can't think of a better thing. You've got to help me do this, though." Then he was stroking down the side of my face with his left hand, across my shoulder and down my back to my bum, where he pulled my groin tightly to him.

I whispered back, "let me put some Vaseline on you, and on my ass, then I'll lay on the edge of the bed. Use your left hand to start, to get inside me, then lean on my shoulder or the bed, whatever feels best for you, Okay. I just want you in me, completely and deeply in me. I want this to be totally mind blowing for you. You lead. Go slow. If it feels good for you, it'll feel good for me too. Okay?"

He was smiling as he held me, and we ground our groins together. "You are a real sex machine, aren't you?"

"Only for you, my Sexy Man, only for you."

I applied the lube and moved around to the edge of the bed, laying down and spreading wide, trying to make it as open and easy as I could. I felt him step up, holding his cock and gently push his cockhead against my opening. I figured he'd be wondering how he could push and still keep his balance, so I tried to really relax my hole and push back on him, and suddenly his cockhead was in, and I felt his left hand on my low back, and I knew we were Okay. He was in. He had control of his balance. He was in control and driving. I felt him push forward slowly, and my first ring release and he slid past and I felt him ride over my prostate, and then he gasped loudly, followed my an "Oh my god," and his hand slid up my spine a ways as he went deeper.

It was so hot, and it felt so good to have him inside me again, I didn't care if I came or not. He started slowly pumping, being careful, and that was cool, but what was greatest was that after a couple of minutes I felt him slide his hand all the way up my spine and stroke my neck, then move to the side and hold my left shoulder with his left hand, so he had some leverage, and then he began pulling on my shoulder as he started driving into me and stroking into me faster.

Yes! He was in command. He was driving the train. His cock felt so good in me, going as deep as he could, making us one again. But I was also feeling him back. David in control. David, my Sexy Man, actively making love to me. A feeling I'd been worrying I'd never have again.

I was so stimulated by it all that when he started panting, and then making faster and shallower strokes that were working my prostate hard, I just blissed out. It was so glorious. Then he shouted something, I don't know what, because that's when I came too, and as I felt his cum shoot inside me, I felt mine shoot between my belly and the bedspread. He slowed his strokes, and it felt so wonderful, and then I felt so happy as he slowed further, as if he was trying to stretch the sensations out for me before he pulled out.

When he finally pulled out, I could barely move. Just breathing was hard. I felt him lay down on my left side, leaning on his left arm, slowly and carefully stroking my side with the fingers of his right hand, the one that was still in the sling. I turned my head to look at him and smiled, still not having the energy to say anything. He didn't either.

He leaned in and kissed my lips, and then we just lay there, staring into each other's eyes, smiling and sharing and enjoying. I felt myself starting to get emotional, and he looked at me concerned.

"Why are you crying? I love you. I hope those are tears of joy."

I had to catch my breath, and that took a little while, and a couple of swallows before I could talk, and finally I said, "They are, but you don't know how happy I am. You're back. My Sexy Man is back."

"What do you mean?"

I kissed his lips and played with his tongue before I answered. "You had a concussion; you were out of it for a week. I was so afraid you'd never come back, but you are. You're here. You're back. You're my Sexy Man, and you just fucked me, made love to me like you're the Master of the Universe or something, and I can't tell you how happy I am."

I could see what I said register in his eyes, and then he said, "I didn't know I was gone. I'm sorry. You must have been really worried. But you know what? If you say I'm back, and that I just fucked you like I was Master of the Universe, then I'm happy too."

He leaned over and kissed me. "You know you're given to extreme exaggeration, don't you?"

There was no point in trying to explain it any longer. "Having your hard cock inside me like that, you cumming the way you did, and me cumming along with you says it all. I think we're Okay now."

We lay like that for I don't know how long. It was a warm evening, so it was just pleasant, looking into each other's eyes, stroking each other's faces and chest, needing to do nothing more than communicate the feeling of bliss we were both feeling.

Finally, I said, "I love you more than life. You make me whole, and make my life real."

He smiled back, "Me too, Lover Boy. Me too. Just remember. Always remember, without you I'd still be out to lunch somewhere, instead of being so deeply in love with the most wonderful person I've ever known."

I think we both fell asleep then. I woke up when I knew I had to go to the bathroom! Then I helped David into the bed, and he slept naked with me for the first time since the bike wreck, and I knew that another little hurdle had been passed. It was a blissful sleep that night.

Tuesday went by pretty normally, at least what was now normal for us, and it included walking down to the office in the parsonage to practice typing. David was in love with the Selectric, but with an arm still in the sling had trouble loading the paper. I did that and got him set up, and he practiced typing. He alternated that with reading and planning his sermon for Sunday. Watching him with the typewriter was like watching a kid on Christmas Day. Finally, he said, "Okay, your turn!"

I must have looked like I didn't understand, and then he said, "This is about you too, Jackson. Remember, the deal was that you improve your Touch Typing so you can type papers in college. Well, get with it. You need to practice."" So, I did, and both David and Spencer's admin were right: it was an amazing typewriter, almost effortless, and so easy to use…and the built-in correction ribbon was totally over the top!

Lois was there in the late afternoon and prepared dinner again, but when I got David into bed that night, it seemed like I could see fire in his eyes. I had my plan about bringing him back, but I hadn't figured he'd get ahead of me. When we got to our room, I started the usual seduction stuff, but he said 'No,' it was his turn. He kissed me and stroked me and got me so hot, holding and kissing my cock, and then he told me he wanted me to fuck him, but I'd have to help with the Vaseline. I must have looked at him like I wasn't sure, and he took care of that in about two seconds. "Listen, Lover Boy, you said it last night. I'm back. I may still have an arm in a sling, but I can feel the pain from the shot going away already, and you're my other half, I deserve you in me as much as you do me in you. So, I want you to fuck me, to make wild and crazy love to me tonight. Will you do that, please?"

He gave me a look with kind of moony eyes, and it wasn't hard to decide! After the last ten days, you can guess that it took about two seconds to convince me to do it. We decided doggy style would risk hurting his shoulder less, cause he could rest his weight on his good arm, and it was wild and sensuous and mind-blowing. And as I lay on his back after I'd come, I carefully wrapped both arms around his torso, trying to hold him tight without hurting his shoulder, but showing him how much I loved him while trying to stay inside him as long as I could.

It was kind of mechanical, but he was trying, and I was just jazzed that we were getting back to normal. We fell asleep the way we had the night before, facing each other and stroking each other's faces, passing kisses back and forth with our fingertips.


Spencer called Wednesday morning and talked to David. That's when I found out I was invited to lunch too! He said he'd been thinking about what we needed to discuss, and both David and I needed to be there. I didn't know what to think but didn't argue. Who argues with a free lunch and a ride in a BMW!

After we'd ordered and David updated him on the visit to the orthopod and the steroid shot and we got the other small talk out of the way, he looked at us both and said, "I know you had plans, and even bought a house in Portland, before the accident. I'm talking to you now as your friend and as your attorney, Okay?"

We both nodded and smiled, and I really wanted to hold David's hand, but I knew that wouldn't be cool in a restaurant in Newberg. I was sure Spencer wouldn't care. Maybe soon in Sellwood.

"Great. Now first, you bought the house and closed on it. What was the closing date and when do you take occupancy? What's your timetable?"

We sat there quietly, and glanced at each other blankly.

"That's what I thought," Spencer said. "Don't take this wrong, though. David, you were in an accident and had a concussion and other injuries. You've been recovering. Jackson, you rose to the occasion and took care of your boyfriend. May I call you that. Each of you that? I mean, I don't know the conventions, but David told me you're his boyfriend. Is it Okay with you if I think of you that way?"

I nodded, then smiled, and slowly started to grin. "Spencer, do you know that you're a pretty cool guy?"

He leaned back, eyes wide, like "What?"

I said, "Really. I mean you were my Mom's attorney and did the estate stuff and are our attorney and handled the emancipation and stuff, but you're here talking to us like we're family or something. That's really cool. I just want you to know."

Spencer smiled, and I thought I could see just the lightest sign of a blush going on, and then he said, "Thanks, Jackson. That may be among the best compliments I've ever been paid. I mean being told by and eighteen-year old guy that I'm cool is something else!"

We all grinned, and Spencer went on. "Alright, back to business. Here's what I'm thinking about. David, you told me about the position at Lewis and Clark, about buying the house, about Jackson being accepted there for college, and also some nebulous schedule about leaving the church by the end of the summer and moving to Portland, right?"

David nodded. Spencer continued. "Okay, but things have changed. You're healing from an accident and had a concussion. I know you're recovering well. You don't need to convince me of that. Here's the point though, you may be ninety percent back after a week, and that's great and it's because you're young and healthy. I talked to a neurologist I know, and it could take another month or more to get the next five percent back. I could take another month or two after that to get the last five percent back. Do you hear what I'm saying?"

I was watching David and could see that he was hearing what Spencer was telling us, but that while he was hearing it and remembering the facts, he wasn't quite understanding what he was being told—that he had a few more months before he'd fully recover. Maybe two months if he was lucky and did everything right. Suddenly I knew where Spencer was going with this, and why I was there, and how lucky we were to have him as a friend.

"David, if you want to start that new job at Lewis and Clark when school starts, and start it at one hundred percent, you've got to work toward that. You've already signed up to relocate to Portland. Jackson's going to be going to college there too. He's selling out his business to Gary. You told me you're starting physical therapy next week. You take possession of a house soon. There's getting that house organized and decorated and painted or whatever. It all takes time. It's stressful. How are you going to do that and stay here and be the church pastor and heal all at the same time?"

Kaboom! Spencer was dropping the bomb on us. I hadn't been thinking about it cause I'd been taking care of David and I'm a kid. Kid's don't plan about stuff like that. David hadn't been thinking about it cause he'd been in the concussion fog. I figured he had had a timetable, but whatever it was went out the window when the old lady plowed into him with her car.

David was quiet. I took his hand under the table and squeezed it. He squeezed back but didn't say anything. I squeezed, again, a lot harder this time. He looked at me, then said, "What do you think?"

I told him I thought Spencer was right, and that we hadn't been realistic about what had to happen and how much time we had to do it, and on top of that was physical therapy and his recovery. He nodded and smiled at me, still holding my hand under the table.

He turned back to Spencer. "I'm recovered enough to know you wouldn't have been asking all those questions if you didn't have a suggested answer or recommended course of action you want to suggest."

"David and Jackson, it's not my place to tell you what to do. What I can do is suggest what I think you need to do under the circumstances? Do you want me to do that?"

We both nodded, not even needing to look at each other.

"Okay, let me give you one example. First, what's the closing date and the occupancy date on the house in Portland?"

David had to think, but told him the closing date had passed on June 18, and that the occupancy date was July 17.

"Thanks for the dates. So, here's the deal. In about ten days you take occupancy of the house. That means you guys have to be in Portland and the realtor or whomever will give you the keys, show you the details, and eventually you'll get a new warranty deed in the mail. You know what else?"

I was clueless, and so was David. He'd never owned a house before. "If you want electricity you need to open an account at the power company. What's the name of the power company?"

He looked at us. We were blank.

"Then there's water. Same thing. If the furnace is oil or natural gas, same thing. You can assume that all the accounts have been closed and the utilities have been turned off. All those things take time. Oh yeah…do you want a phone? Same thing. All of that's just to get the utilities back on. That's not even starting on what needs to be fixed or replaced. Are you with me so far?"

David nodded. I grinned and said, "I'm thinking you've scared the shit out of us!"

Spencer grinned back. "No need to panic. I'm just telling you that all these things take time. There's work to do, and there will be surprises. A leak here, a broken windowpane there, something needs painting, whatever. You can do some of it from here, but not all of it, and most importantly, a lot of it needs you there. You guys, in my estimation, need to accelerate your timeline."

"What does that mean," David asked. I already knew where this was going.

He grinned again. "You guys need to get out of Dodge sooner rather than later."

I thought that was hilarious, a quote from a Western cowboy movie coming from a pretty straight-laced lawyer! David was smiling too.

He said, "Translation, please?"

"You need to resign your pastor position sooner rather than later. You need to get the basics under control for that new house. You need to move there as soon as is practical, and then you need to get your life in order, and you'll be amazed how close it is to the date class starts."

He looked at me. "What's the date, Jackson?"

"September 5."

"I rest my case. That's two months from now. Do you see what I'm saying to you?"

I said quietly, "I sure do." I looked at David while I squeezed his hand again. "David, what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that good friends don't only share in fun and affection, but they kick you in the ass when you need it."

That took the pressure out of the conversation!

David kept looking at Spencer. "So, what do you suggest? How do you think we should do this?"

"That's not so hard. You just order by priority the major things you need to do, given their complexity and the time they take to implement, and start knocking them down. I think the first thing you need to do is resign as pastor of the church."

I could see David wince. I mean, I knew he knew it was going to happen, and I knew it was going to happen, but somehow it seemed like it was out there for later. But I could already see Spencer's point about getting out from under the responsibility that tied David to Newberg. I also knew it wouldn't be easy. Resigning from your first pastorate, your first job, after less than a year would be hard.

"You really think so," David said softly?

Spencer looked him straight in the eyes. "Yes. You owe it to the church and more importantly you owe it to yourself. You've got a lot on your plate. You need to make sure you completely heal before classes start. On top of that, the more lead time the church has to start looking for a new pastor the better. Summer is kind of the quiet time, you know. People go on vacation and stuff, attendance is down, but come Fall it's back to business as usual."

David nodded slowly, processing what Spencer had told him. "You're right. I haven't been thinking clearly or I would have seen all of that myself. How do you think I should do this, and when?"

"Not hard. Give me a couple of days to talk to all the Session members about your recovery and the position you've been offered at Lewis & Clark, and then Friday or Saturday give the Chair your resignation letter. You pick the effective date, but I'd recommend the same date you take occupancy on the house. That's essentially a two-week notice, and no one will have a problem with that under the circumstances."

So that's how Spencer helped us define a new timetable. Wow! What a lunch. I don't even remember what I ordered. It made so much sense, though, and we talked about that after we got home. Meaning after Spencer drove us home in that super BMW he drove. We thanked him when he dropped us off, and I told him just how cool I thought his car was. He grinned like a kid. "Maybe I'll take you for a long drive sometime."

When we settled down, I asked David how he felt about it all, and he was quiet for a minute, then said, "I feel kind of dumb. I shouldn't have needed Spencer to sort this out for me."

We were sitting on the couch, and I had my arm around his waist, with my head on his good shoulder, and he was looking down at the floor. "You know, I could probably say the same thing if I wanted an excuse," I said softly, "but you know what? We've been kind of, what do you call it…oh yeah, preoccupied for the last ten days. So, our friend steps up and says, 'hey you guys, you know I care about you and you've been missing a few things you need to do.' I think that's pretty incredible."

"It is. And, you agree that he's right in what he suggested?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I do. I can't see anything wrong or what he's missed. It's actually pretty basic. Another way to look at it is we focus for the next month on disconnecting here and getting set up there, and then we have the last month of summer together in our new home getting ready for Fall quarter and your new job. Now that he's forced us to be like totally realistic, I think he's right and it's a good plan."

"Okay. That's what we'll do. And the first major thing I get to do on the Selectric typewriter is write a resignation letter. How about that?"

I thought it was pretty cool. The typewriter was also cool too. I was practicing because I had to keep this journal going, but doing other stuff too because I wanted to be a competent typist by the time school started in the Fall, and since I wasn't really working this summer, and wasn't taking any classes, practicing my typing was the closest I was getting to, like, school work!

Talk about this story on our forum

Authors deserve your feedback. It's the only payment they get. If you go to the top of the page you will find the author's name. Click that and you can email the author easily.* Please take a few moments, if you liked the story, to say so.

[For those who use webmail, or whose regular email client opens when they want to use webmail instead: Please right click the author's name. A menu will open in which you can copy the email address (it goes directly to your clipboard without having the courtesy of mentioning that to you) to paste into your webmail system (Hotmail, Gmail, Yahoo etc). Each browser is subtly different, each Webmail system is different, or we'd give fuller instructions here. We trust you to know how to use your own system. Note: If the email address pastes or arrives with %40 in the middle, replace that weird set of characters with an @ sign.]

* Some browsers may require a right click instead