and a lazy smile lit up his gorgeous face. "That was...I can't even describe it," he murmured tiredly.
I grinned and kissed him gently on his cheek. "You're incredible."
He opened one eye. "You liked the spanking part."
I rolled my eyes. "So did you."
"Fuck, Martin. I liked all of it. A lot. A whole lot."
After we recovered ourselves we showered without too much distraction. We were both pretty tired. I lent Jeremy a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt. We cuddled in front of the TV and ate the candy that Jeremy had bought. I'd never been crazy about candy, but when Jeremy was with me, everything tasted good. So we shared the caramel corn and the licorice. Jeremy had already demonstrated to me the various uses of pop rocks and there were none left.
We watched one lame TV show after another, making fun of everything and everyone, laughing and joking like kids. Jeremy's cell phone rang a couple of times but he let it go to voicemail. At about eleven we got into bed. I pulled Jeremy against me into a spooning embrace.
"I feel like I just made you up in my head and you're going to disappear," I said.
"I'm not going to disappear. Although I will have to go home tomorrow."
"I know. But please have breakfast with me first?"
"Breakfast, breakfast? Or euphemism breakfast?"
I laughed. "I'm so fucking tired I can only think about actual breakfast. I make very good omelets."
"Sounds wonderful," he murmured, and we both fell asleep.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Seven
Distortion
In the very early morning I woke up, reached for Jeremy and felt nothing. I was alone in my bed. My stomach clenched in dread as I sat up and searched the room. When I saw his messenger bag against the wall and a light coming from the kitchen, I felt a huge sense of relief. I glanced at the clock. It was 4:41.
I got quietly out of bed and padded into the living room. In the moonlight I could see Jeremy sitting cross-legged before the big mirror, staring at his reflection. I wasn't sure what he was doing so I stood still for a minute and watched him. When I saw him inhale a shaky breath, I realized he'd been crying.
"Jeremy," I said. Shit, what's wrong? "Jesus, did I hurt you?"
He turned to look at me, his face pale and wet with tears. But he shook his head and tried to smile. "It's nothing." He said. "It's nothing, Martin. Go back to bed."
But it was so obviously not nothing that I couldn't leave him there sitting on the floor. "Tell me I didn't hurt you...I didn't mean to..."
"You didn't hurt me, Martin." He stared at me, his voice calm, his face full of pain.
"What is it? You have to tell me. I'm freaking out over here!"
He shook his head and started to get up, but it seemed like he had hardly any strength in his legs all of a sudden. He couldn't get up.
"Jesus Christ, Jeremy." I rushed over to him. "What the fuck is going on? Are you okay?"
He nodded. "I'm okay. But do you think you could drive me to the hospital?"
"Of course, but...what is going on?" Now I really started to freak out. It could be a stroke or something. "Maybe I should call 911."
"No, just...just help me up." I grabbed hold of him and helped him stand, which he was able to do, thank God. But he leaned on me heavily. "Thanks. Man, this is so embarrassing. Just, help me to the couch, okay?"
I helped him over to the couch. He sat down, leaning his head back against the cushions and closing his eyes. I saw a couple of tears pool at the corners. "Why the fuck did this have to happen now?" He opened his eyes and looked to me for an answer. I didn't have one. I didn't know what was going on. "I mean, I finally happen on a really good thing, I mean an amazingly good thing, and I'm having the time of my life and--fuck!" He brought his fist down on his knee and grimaced. "I'm sorry. I sound like a whiny geriatric patient."
"Jeremy, tell me what's going on right now or I'm calling 911," I said with all the authority I could muster.
"Well, I guess this is
I grinned and kissed him gently on his cheek. "You're incredible."
He opened one eye. "You liked the spanking part."
I rolled my eyes. "So did you."
"Fuck, Martin. I liked all of it. A lot. A whole lot."
After we recovered ourselves we showered without too much distraction. We were both pretty tired. I lent Jeremy a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt. We cuddled in front of the TV and ate the candy that Jeremy had bought. I'd never been crazy about candy, but when Jeremy was with me, everything tasted good. So we shared the caramel corn and the licorice. Jeremy had already demonstrated to me the various uses of pop rocks and there were none left.
We watched one lame TV show after another, making fun of everything and everyone, laughing and joking like kids. Jeremy's cell phone rang a couple of times but he let it go to voicemail. At about eleven we got into bed. I pulled Jeremy against me into a spooning embrace.
"I feel like I just made you up in my head and you're going to disappear," I said.
"I'm not going to disappear. Although I will have to go home tomorrow."
"I know. But please have breakfast with me first?"
"Breakfast, breakfast? Or euphemism breakfast?"
I laughed. "I'm so fucking tired I can only think about actual breakfast. I make very good omelets."
"Sounds wonderful," he murmured, and we both fell asleep.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Seven
Distortion
In the very early morning I woke up, reached for Jeremy and felt nothing. I was alone in my bed. My stomach clenched in dread as I sat up and searched the room. When I saw his messenger bag against the wall and a light coming from the kitchen, I felt a huge sense of relief. I glanced at the clock. It was 4:41.
I got quietly out of bed and padded into the living room. In the moonlight I could see Jeremy sitting cross-legged before the big mirror, staring at his reflection. I wasn't sure what he was doing so I stood still for a minute and watched him. When I saw him inhale a shaky breath, I realized he'd been crying.
"Jeremy," I said. Shit, what's wrong? "Jesus, did I hurt you?"
He turned to look at me, his face pale and wet with tears. But he shook his head and tried to smile. "It's nothing." He said. "It's nothing, Martin. Go back to bed."
But it was so obviously not nothing that I couldn't leave him there sitting on the floor. "Tell me I didn't hurt you...I didn't mean to..."
"You didn't hurt me, Martin." He stared at me, his voice calm, his face full of pain.
"What is it? You have to tell me. I'm freaking out over here!"
He shook his head and started to get up, but it seemed like he had hardly any strength in his legs all of a sudden. He couldn't get up.
"Jesus Christ, Jeremy." I rushed over to him. "What the fuck is going on? Are you okay?"
He nodded. "I'm okay. But do you think you could drive me to the hospital?"
"Of course, but...what is going on?" Now I really started to freak out. It could be a stroke or something. "Maybe I should call 911."
"No, just...just help me up." I grabbed hold of him and helped him stand, which he was able to do, thank God. But he leaned on me heavily. "Thanks. Man, this is so embarrassing. Just, help me to the couch, okay?"
I helped him over to the couch. He sat down, leaning his head back against the cushions and closing his eyes. I saw a couple of tears pool at the corners. "Why the fuck did this have to happen now?" He opened his eyes and looked to me for an answer. I didn't have one. I didn't know what was going on. "I mean, I finally happen on a really good thing, I mean an amazingly good thing, and I'm having the time of my life and--fuck!" He brought his fist down on his knee and grimaced. "I'm sorry. I sound like a whiny geriatric patient."
"Jeremy, tell me what's going on right now or I'm calling 911," I said with all the authority I could muster.
"Well, I guess this is
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