Appearances, copyright 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, by Etienne. All rights reserved.
If the idea of two men loving each other and expressing that love in a sexual manner offends you, then you have clearly come to the wrong place. Feel free to leave.
Appearances
-36-
Arrangements
After I left the hospital, I got home as quickly as possible, and was soon eating toast, drinking coffee, and handing tidbits to Lance, who having heard me come in, had come downstairs to investigate. I cleaned up the kitchen as best I could with one arm in a cast, and went up to our bedroom, where I managed somehow to get my shirt off and over the cast. Then I stripped and pulled on some gym shorts. I went downstairs to refill my coffee cup and found Bruce seated at the breakfast table, wearing only a pair of boxer-briefs.
“Good morning,” he said. “Is everything all right at the hospital?”
“Charles is doing fine and should be out of there in a couple of days,” I said. “ Bruce, can you do me a favor?”
“Sure,” he said, “what?”
“Can you help me shower and shave? I was going to ask Richard, but you know how difficult he is to get up at this hour.”
“Sure,” Bruce said again, and followed me upstairs.
When we got to the bathroom, he asked “How are we going to do this?”
“I’m not sure, but I think probably the best thing would be for me to get in the shower and stick my bad arm out between the door and the wall, holding it as high as I can, so water won’t run down off of my shoulder and onto the cast. Then you can get in with me and help me wash.”
It worked like a charm. I reached in and turned the water on, and as soon as it was warm enough, I dropped my shorts, and got in the shower, leaving my cast sticking out into the room through the opening between the sliding door and the wall. Bruce stripped and joined me, and I couldn’t help noticing (is there a man alive, gay or straight, who does not check other men out?) that not only did the boy have a great butt, he was really hung. I told him so. “Wow, a great ass and hung as well. No wonder Richard keeps coming back for more.”
He blushed, as he reached around me to adjust the flow of water. “Thanks, you’re not so bad, yourself,” he said. “A little too smooth for my taste, but, as they say, different strokes.”
I had to laugh. “Charles and I tried this after he got that guy off with the pubic hair defense, and we love it. We shave each other at least every other day. In many ways, it amounts to foreplay, and the act of shaving always turns us on even more than we already are.”
He said, “Richard told me about the trial, and also about seeing you guys at the Y. I repeat, whatever turns you on. There aren’t enough razors in the world to keep Richard looking like that and besides, I like all that lovely blond fur.” By then, he had lathered both of us thoroughly and we rinsed off. He shut the water off, got out of the shower, and grabbed a couple of bath sheets. Handing me one, he said “do as much as you can, and as soon as I am dry, I’ll get the parts you can’t easily reach.”
Drying ones body with one hand is a slow and tedious process. Bruce finished toweling himself dry, pulled his shorts back on, and finished drying me. “Ready for a shave?” he said.
“You bet. I never got to shave yesterday, and two days’ stubble is almost a record for me.”
He proceeded to lather my face and make me look presentable. “Can you do this too?” I pointed at my groin. “Charles and I are going to try a few things in his hospital bed late tonight and I want to be smooth for him.”
“Why not?” Bruce said, and proceeded to prep my groin. “Is sex a good idea, so soon after the surgery?”
“His Surgeon gave us his blessing when he came by the room early this morning. I recognized him from somewhere and my gaydar went off full blast, so I asked him point blank about sex. He told us in no uncertain terms what could and could not be done.”
“Gee,” he said, “that took some nerve, asking him outright.”
“That would be true if he had been straight, but my gaydar is always reliable.” By that time, my groin was once again smooth and, predictably, I was hard as a rock. “Don’t worry about that,” I said, “the genital shaving thing is an extremely erotic experience. It will go down in a minute or two,” I said with a smile.
I went into the walk through closet, opened a drawer, found some underwear, and then quickly selected a shirt and some slacks, slipping them from their hangers. “If you can help me into these, I think I can manage everything else.”
I sat down on the edge of the bed and put first one leg and then the other through the leg holes of my shorts. I pulled them up to my thighs and said “this is the hard part.”
He pulled them up the rest of the way and obligingly pulled the waistband out while I tucked my now soft genitals in place with one hand, then I sat down and pulled the sleeve of the shirt over my cast. He helped get my other hand through the arm hole, and finally buttoned it in place.
“Thanks, Bruce. I really appreciate this, and will probably need to do the same thing tomorrow morning.”
“Not a problem,” he said.
“Bruce.”
“Yes.”
“Are you and Richard getting serious?”
“I have been for a while, now, and I think he is getting there slowly. We did get tested recently, and as of last week, we stopped using condoms.”
I said “If you don’t mind my asking, whose idea was that?”
“Richard’s, actually,” he said.
“Wow. Tthat is a very big step for Richard, and it is hugely significant that he suggested it. You do know that he has been in love with Charles to one degree or another since they were in high school.”
“I know. He’s told me all there is to tell about it, and I think he’s been pretty much over it for a long time.”
“Good. Charles and I both wish you the very best.”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate that,” he said, and gave me a brief hug. Something inside of me burst at that point, and with my one good arm, I clung to Bruce, and began to cry.
“Oh God, Bruce, I only just found Charles last year, and when I think that I could have lost him yesterday it gets to me.”
He pulled me close and patted me on the back. “I know, man. Get it out of your system now. You’ve got to be strong for him later.”
“I know,” I said as I released him. I sat back down on the bed. “Sorry about that, I never lose control like that.”
He said, “I guess you really needed to let go for a minute. I don’t mind.”
I pulled my pants on, and we walked downstairs together. When we got to the kitchen, Richard was sitting at the breakfast table, with a cup of coffee. “What have you guys been up to?” he asked.
I responded “I’ve been up in our bathroom getting naked with your man.”
“Really?” he said, with a raised eyebrow.
“I needed help in the shower and it was either wake you up, or draft Bruce, so I took the easy way out.”
“Thanks,” he said.
“Thanks for getting naked with me,” Bruce said.
“Thanks for not waking me up, smart ass,” replied Richard.
“If you want to get up around seven A.M. tomorrow, you can take his place,” I teased.
“I’ll pass on that,” he said, and we all laughed. “How’s Charley?”
“Holding up,” I replied, and gave him the short version of what the surgeon had said about exercise and therapy. I excused myself and went up to the study, where I sat down at the desk and turned on the speaker phone. I punched in Charles’ cell number, which rang several times. “Hello,” he finally said.
“Hi babe, it’s me. Everything okay at your end.”
“As good as can be expected,” he said, “considering that I was just told that if I didn’t use a bedpan by tomorrow I could expect to be given an enema.”
“Then, I suggest you get your ass on that bedpan and be a good boy.”
“Was there a reason for this call, or did you just want to abuse me?”
“Yes, actually, there was. I need the business name for Sam the computer man whose son helped with the trial. I can’t use both hands to type so I wanted to get the son to come install some voice recognition software in my computer.”
He gave me the name of the business. “Slow down,” I said, “it takes me a while to write with my arm in a cast.” He and spelled it out again. Finally, I said “Got it,” and read it back to him. “I’ll be there around noon, with lunch. Don’t go anywhere,” I said. “By the way, I’ve got a news flash for you.”
“What.”
“Richard and Bruce stopped using condoms last week.”
“Babe, that is serious, especially for Richard.”
“I know, and all the more so because it was Richard’s idea.”
“How did you find out? They surely didn’t just blurt it out like that.”
I told him about Bruce helping me bathe, shave, and dress, and the subsequent conversation, omitting any mention of my little breakdown.
“Good for them,” he said, when I had finished my recital.
“Got to run babe,” I said. “Love you.”
“I love you, too,” he said, and broke the connection.
I looked up the number of Sam the computer guy, called him, and spoke to his son, arranging for an installation and some instruction for late in the afternoon. Then I called Gran and gave her a report on Charles’ condition and prospects. Richard was planning to pick her up in the late afternoon, and take her to the hospital for a visit, and I told her so.
I made a few more calls, then went back down to the garage, and headed for the hospital. Even with one arm in a cast, it was relatively easy to drive my car, using the gear selector in the center console. Once I got it in drive, all I had to do was keep it there, there being no need for upshifting and down shifting in city traffic (okay, there is actually little need for upshifting and downshifting most of the time, I simply enjoy doing it). I stopped at a Subway with a drive-through lane, and got a couple of Philly Cheese steak sandwiches for Charles and me.
When I got to his room, the door was shut, so I opened it quietly so as not to disturb him should he be sleeping. I slipped quietly into the room. The curtains around the bed were drawn, and I heard a strange voice say “he is one lucky guy.”
I pulled the curtains back, looked in, and said “Who is a lucky guy?”
“You are,” said an orderly named John, “if your name is Philip.” He pointed at Charles’ penis which he was drying with a towel “He told me earlier today that there is an invisible tattoo on this thing that says ‘property of Philip.’”
We all smiled at that, and John finished drying Charles off, tied a new gown around his neck, and spread a clean sheet on the bed. He tidied up the room, and left us alone.
Charles looked at me “I’ve never felt so helpless in my life.”
“I know,” I said. “I have the same problem, although not nearly to the same degree as you.”
“I smell food,” he said, sniffing.
“Philly Cheese steak sandwiches from Subway.”
“So much for healthy shit,” he said, referring to our conversation yesterday.
“Hey, they are on multi-grain bread. That qualifies them as healthy,” I said. “If you don’t want yours, I can take it home and give it to Lance, and you can eat whatever the hospital staff brings you.”
“Not on your life,” he said, grabbing the Subway bag out of my hands.
I opened the cans of Coca Cola that I had brought, gave one of them to him, and we ate in silence. I looked closely at him. “How are you doing, really?” I asked.
“I suppose it could be worse,” he said. “How about you?”
“Surprisingly, there has been very little pain, at least nothing that cannot be managed with Tylenol-3. It is really more of a nuisance than anything else.”
We finished our sandwiches, and sat quietly for while holding each other’s free hand. After a while, he dozed off, and I lay back in the easy chair and dozed off as well, still clinging to his hand for dear life.
John, the orderly, woke us up when he came back into the room. “Hey guys,” he said, “I hate to interrupt your beauty rest, but its torture time again.” He was holding crutches.
I released Charles’ hand and got out of the way while John made his preparations. He unhooked the two drips, and helped Charles swivel around and hang his feet off of the bed, before sticking the crutches under Charles’ arms. “Okay,” he said, “this will be the same drill as before, but this time I want you to actually get through the door and out into the corridor before we turn around.”
Charles groaned in pain when he stood up, and John admonished him. “Hey, man, take it easy and don’t put any more weight on that leg than you can stand. Okay?”
With John’s help, Charles shuffled his way to the door, through it, and out of sight for a moment before returning. He was trembling and sweating and his face was a mask of pain. John helped him back into the bed and reconnected the drips.
Charles punched the controls on the morphine drip and looked at John. “You’re a sadist. You know that?”
“I’ve been called worse,” John said. “It’s all part of the job.” He checked Charles over. “Do you need the urinal or bedpan?”
Charles said “Urinal, please,” and John reached for it and repeated what I had done earlier.
“You’re sure you don’t want the bedpan?” asked John.
“Not yet,” said Charles.
“Okay. Just remember, I love giving enemas. It’s kind of fun being paid to stick things up guys’ butts, especially when they are hot looking studs like you.”
“Sadist.”
“You said that already.”
“Well, it bears repeating.”
John looked at me. “If he’s feeling well enough to insult me, that’s a good sign.”
I smiled and said “I’ll have to take your word for that.”
John left, and I looked over at Charles. “I think I need to wash your face, brush your hair, and make you a little more presentable. Richard and Gran will be here before long.” Without waiting for a response, I went into the bathroom, found a basin and filled it half full of warm water. I took it, a washcloth, and soap back to Charles’ bed, and proceeded to tenderly wash his face. Then I took his hairbrush and brushed his hair for him. “Handsome once again,” I said. I kissed him for a minute or two. “Hmm, I think we need to brush your teeth, too.”
“Breath?”
“Not too bad, but yes.”
“Well it has been a day and a half or more.”
“I know, babe, I know,” I said, and I went back to the bathroom found his toothbrush, and squeezed some toothpaste on it. I also filled a glass half full of water. Taking them back into the room, I handed him the brush.
“Aren’t you going to do it for me?”
“You have two good arms. Well, one good arm, really, and my right hand isn’t all that useful.”
He brushed his teeth, and I gave him the water glass. “Now rinse and spit.”
He followed my instructions, and I kissed him again, this time more deeply. “Much better,” I said. We sat in silence for a while, me holding his hand.
“Babe,” Charles said.
“Yes.”
“I think I can use that bedpan now.”
“Let me go find an Orderly,” I said, and I went down to the nurse’s station. An aide looked up at me from her desk. “Help you?”
“Yes, my friend in 509 needs to use the bedpan, and I need an orderly.”
“I’ll send someone down in just a minute,” she said.
I thanked her and went back to the room. A few minutes later, John came into the room. “Don’t you ever get to go home?” Charles asked him.
“Once in a while,” he said. “Right now I am pulling a double shift for the overtime. What’s up?”
I said “I think you are going to miss out on the pleasure of giving him an enema. He is ready for a bedpan.”
“Right,” said John, and he retrieved the necessary gear.
While John was dealing with Charles and the bedpan, I began to look at the cards which were attached to the many flower arrangements that had been delivered the previous afternoon. I read each one, and replaced it so that Charles could look at them later and know who sent what. When I reached the last one, I opened the envelope, read the card, and said “holy shit.”
“Well I am in the process of shitting,” Charles said from behind the curtain, “but there’s nothing much that is holy about it, except perhaps that this is a wholly uncomfortable way to do it.”
“I’ll explain in a minute,” I said, as I rummaged in my pockets for Detective Howard’s card. Finding it, I carried my cell phone out into the hallway and punched in what was listed as his cell phone number, and he answered on the first ring. “Detective Howard,” he answered.
“Detective, this is Philip d’Autremont. I am in my partner Charles’ hospital room, and I think you need to get over here as soon as you can,” I said.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because there has been another threat,” I said.
“In what form?” he asked.
There were a bunch of floral arrangements delivered yesterday afternoon, and we didn’t get around to examining the cards. I did that just now and one of them says “next time we won’t miss.”
“I’m on my way,” he said. “Please don’t handle it anymore. There might be fingerprints on it.”
“I understand,” I said, hung up, and went back into Charles’ room.
By this time, John had finished with Charles and had left the room. I said to Charles “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“It was horrible,” said Charles, “you have no idea how humiliating it is to have someone else wipe your ass.”
“I know,” I said.
“No, you don’t, you’ve never had to use a bedpan. Also I don’t feel even remotely clean down there.”
“Now that I can relate to, because when I used the john at home this morning, I had to use my left hand, and I got so frustrated that I finally used a damp washcloth to clean up. Anyhow, when we get you home, maybe we can get you on the throne with your bad leg stretched out in front of you and it won’t be so bad.”
“Babe, that can’t happen soon enough,” he said. “I swear to God, I am going to hold it for the next two days or for however long it takes to get out of here.”
“By the way,” he asked, “did I hear you leave the room just now?”
“I had to call Detective Howard,” I said.
“Why?”
I pointed at the offending flower arrangement, and said “Because the card attached to that flower arrangement had a threat in it.” I explained what I had seen and done, and continued “Babe, I’ve got to run home and meet Tommy so he can take care of my computer. I’ll be back later. When the Detective gets here, just point him at the card and the arrangement.”
“Okay, go off and leave me in my sickbed,” he whined.
“Hey, be nice or I won’t bring you any supper,” I said. “Besides, Richard and Gran will be here any minute now.”
“I hope you are being careful when you are out and about,” he said.
“I am, babe, I am. If I see the same car behind me for too long a time, I will drive like a bat for the nearest Police station,” I said, then I kissed him and left. Heading home, I pulled up into our driveway just as Tommy was arriving.
“Are you Tommy?” I asked the twenty something young man standing in front of me.
“Yes sir,” he said.
“I’m Philip d’Autremont. Follow me and I’ll show you where the computer is.” I led him up to the study and booted both my computer and my laptop for him. “I am an author, but I can’t type very fast right now with this thing on my arm. How difficult will it be to install voice recognition software on both machines?”
“Piece of cake, dude.” He said.
“I would also like to hire you to give me a couple of hours training, or as much as you think I need. By the way, I never got to thank you for the computer work you did in my trial.”
“Dude,” he said, “your boyfriend kept my sorry ass out of jail a couple of years ago. As far as I’m concerned, I still owe him big time.”
He quickly installed the software on both machines and configured it to work with Word Perfect (my preferred software). “Your laptop has a built in microphone, but I’ll have to get one for your desktop machine,” he said.
“Whatever it takes,” I said.
“This software is pretty smart, and if you start out speaking slowly, and distinctly, it will quickly correct any mistakes it makes, and over time it will actually ‘learn’ to recognize your speech idiosyncracies and then you can speed up the dictation.”
“Cool,” I said. “I had no idea.”
“Hey dude, the robots are going to take over one day, don’t you know?”
I had to laugh, and said “I’m not quite ready for that, but I take your point.”
He spent some time walking me through the program’s paces, and finally pronounced himself satisfied. “I’ll give you a call when the mike comes in and arrange to install it.”
“Great,” I said. “I’m spending most of my time at the hospital with Charles right now, and when he gets out, we are going to stay with his grandmother in Buckhead. He has one leg in a cast, and can’t climb the stairs here, but she has an elevator in her home.”
“An elevator! Awesome.”
I walked him back down to his car, and he promised he would send me a bill, but privately I doubted that he would, so profound was his gratitude toward Charles. Thirty minutes later, I was on my way back to the hospital. This time, I stopped and picked up some Chinese food. When I got to Charles’ room, both Richard and Gran were sitting by the bed. I walked over to the bed and gave his shoulder a squeeze.
“Do I smell food?” he asked.
I held up the bag so he could see the logo. “Chicken and broccoli.”
“You know how I feel about broccoli.”
“Indeed I do. You can eat it after a while.”
I turned to Gran. “I would like to come out to your house and check out the room, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course not, my boy. When?”
“I suspect they are going to be in here in a while to make him walk again, so why don’t I take you home when you’re ready?”
“Thank you,” she said. “In fact, this chair is getting a little hard, so I’m ready now.”
I helped her up and we said goodbye to Charles and went back down to my car. She was quiet during the ride to her house, evidently lost in thought. We drove up to the front door and I helped her out of the car and took her arm as we walked to the door. When we were inside, she said, “do you want to ride up with me in the elevator?”
“Of course,” I replied.
The entrance to her house, as always, made a huge impression. The front door opened into a large foyer with a ceiling that was two storeys high. A huge chandelier of cut glass hung from the ceiling between the entrance and the foot of the stairs. There were wide pocket doors on either side, one leading to the front parlor, and the other opening directly into the library. The dominant feature, however, was the stairway. It rose a third of the height of the foyer to a landing, and from the landing other stairs continued up to the left and to the right. These stairs led to wide hallways that ran the length of the house. All of the upstairs rooms opened into the hallways. The house was effectively divided into two wings, with an upstairs sitting room between them. The sitting room had a little balcony which overlooked the landing, and served to connect the two upstairs wings of the house. The sitting room also looked out onto the back yard. The downstairs entrance to the elevator opened onto the parlor, and its upstairs entrance had been installed in an enlarged closet in the West wing.
We stepped out of the elevator, and in a few minutes we were standing in the doorway, surveying Charles’ boyhood room. I had seen it before when he gave me a tour of the house, but only briefly. There was a chest of drawers a double bed, a desk, and built-in bookshelves along one wall.
I turned to her “Gran,” I said, “I have just had an idea.”
“Yes?”
I changed the subject. “First, I have to ask, do you mind me calling you Gran?”
“Of course not, I think it is kind of sweet.”
“You didn’t see Charles and Richard’s faces the first time I did it. They looked a bit shell-shocked when I said it - I guess they were expecting a reaction from you.”
She laughed “Then they weren’t using their brains. They both know me well enough to know that even if I had been displeased, no one in the room would have been aware of it.”
“Great,” I said. “I just wanted to clear the air, so to speak. I certainly don’t want you to think ill of me.”
She turned to face me, placed both palms on my cheeks, and looked me straight in the eyes with a piercing gaze. “My dear boy. Charles is the only child of my only child. He is all I have left of my family. He was always such a sunny, outgoing person and had more joi de vie than any two people I have ever known. After Robert died, it was horrible watching him withdraw into himself. Over the last three years he was not living, he was becoming more like a robot going through the motions of life. You cannot imagine how terrible it was to see that happening, and how helpless I felt watching it happen. Then you came along and restored him to himself. For that alone, I would forgive you anything, if there were anything to forgive.”
“Even if I were an axe murderer?” I asked.
“Even that,” she said, “but you are not as you put it, an axe murderer. You are just a well bred Southern boy from a family not unlike my own, and if there are any defects to be forgiven, I have yet to discover them.” It was quite a little speech. I put my good arm around her shoulders.
“You know, I want only what is best for Charles.”
“I know,” she said. “Now what were you going to suggest?”
“Simply this,” I said. “Charles is going to be in a cast for a minimum of six weeks, perhaps a bit longer. When that cast comes off, it will probably be at least that long again before he is ready to start traipsing up and down all those stairs in the townhouse. I think it is safe to say that we will be imposing on you for perhaps three or four months, at the very least.”
“Please don’t use the word ‘impose’ in that context. There is no imposition involved, now what do you have in mind.”
“Well,” I said. “With your permission, I would like to put all of this furniture in storage and have the contents of the master bedroom in the townhouse brought over here. That bed, for example is not very big, and Charles will be more comfortable in the king size bed he has been accustomed to for the last five or six years. What do you think?”
“I think that I should have thought of that myself,” she answered. “Shall I have Goodman start moving things out?”
“Not quite yet. First I have to rent a storage place.”
“No need for that, my boy, this house has more nooks and crannies than you can say grace over, not to mention a huge and practically empty basement.”
“Great. Then I will hire a moving company to come over here and move the furniture wherever you and/or Goodman tell them to, and then they can bring our furniture over here.”
“Won’t that be expensive?”
“I have no idea, but what is the point of being rich, if you can’t spend a little money making your loved ones happy from time to time,” I said.
She patted my arm and gave me a smile that I will never forget.
“Oh, I almost forgot the most important thing,” I said.
“What?”
“I need to look at the bathroom. Is there a proper stall shower?”
She smiled. “Oh my yes, even as a boy, Charles was a fanatic about showers. I had one installed for him when he first came to live with me. In fact it is just about the only thing he ever demanded of me while growing up.”
I went into the bathroom, which opened directly off of the bedroom, and found that it had, in place of a tub, a very wide, fully tiled shower with sliding glass doors and a very low threshold. You could easily see that the shower was decades newer than the rest of the bathroom. Gran had followed me into the room.
“This is perfect,” I said. “He’s already fussing about not having had a shower. All we have to do is stick his leg, cast and all, into a large plastic garbage bag and seal it with tape at the top, or so I am told. It will certainly take two men to manage the task, but I have no doubt that it can be done.”
I had a sudden thought. “Is there a room nearby where I can set up my computer?”
“You can set it up right here in the bedroom, if you like.”
“Yes I could, but because I can’t type with both hands for a while, I will be using what is known as voice recognition software, and dictating into the machine. It might disturb Charles if he is sleeping.”
“In that case,” she said, “let’s take a look at my old sewing room. It is right next door.”
She led me to a somewhat smaller room which was indeed adjacent to Charles’ old bedroom. It was virtually empty, except for a small desk. “This is perfect,” I said. “Do you have cable television?”
“Yes, for all the good it does me. I cannot stand the drivel that passes for entertainment these days, and I almost never turn it on.”
“Perfect, we will need to have an extension installed in his room for a television, and in here so I can get internet access, that is if you don’t mind.”
“Why should I mind? You two should consider this your home for as long as you need it and make any changes you deem necessary. It will be Charles’ one day after I am gone.”
“Hopefully, he and I will be old and gray before we have to deal with that,” I said.
“Oh, I don’t think it will be quite that many years from now,” she said. “Will you have a cup of tea before you go back to the hospital?”
“Certainly,” I replied, and I went back down in the elevator with her.
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-To be continued-
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Your feedback, as always, is appreciated, be it good, bad, or indifferent.
My stories may be found on the following sites:
http://tickiestories.us/Etienne_m.htm
My thanks as always to the tireless Rockhunter for editing the last few chapters.
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