THIS WORK IS FULLY PROTECTED BY U.S. COPYRIGHT LAWS. NO PORTION OF THIS WORK MAY BE COPIED OR REDISTRIBUTED BY ANY MEANS WITHOUT THE EXPRESS CONSENT OF ITS AUTHOR.
THIS WORK DEALS WITH A FICTITIONAL RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN TWO MEN. IF READING ABOUT HOMOSEXUAL RELATIONSHIPS OR SEXUAL CONTACT BETWEEN TWO MEN IS EITHER ILLEGAL IN YOUR AREA OR OFFENDS YOU, PLEASE DO NOT READY ANY FURTHER.
ANY SIMILARITIES TO ANY PERSON LIVING OR DEAD ARE PURELY COINCIDENTAL. THIS WORK IS ENTIRELY FICTITIONAL.
Guys I really appreciate all the great responses you've sent me after that the original posting of Daniel's Love. Because of these letters and the multitude of requests I am writing the sequel. Chapter 3 is only the beginning. These characters have taken on a life of their own. I'm not sure how long this series will continue but there are several more chapters to follow. Again, thanks for the encouragement.
DANIEL'S LOVE
Michael A. Raburn
Chapter 3
"Happy birthday, baby." I whispered.
"I love you, Daddy Bear."
The gang had decided to go ahead with the birthday party that Cornelia Garland and I had planned for Daniel's twenty-fifth. We were still pretty shaken by the events that had culminated in Manhattan after the Avery Foundation Dedication. Even though most of us had not known Barry Lewis for long, he had become more than a security guard to all of us-more of a friend. Nina had been the closest to Barry and she was still reeling from his loss. Their relationship had barely begun before it was suddenly over.
Cornelia had been our comfort for the past six weeks. She returned from New York with us and quickly took up the role of mother to us all. Mr. Garland had been to Atlanta a couple times during that period, but only to bring more of Cornelia's clothes. He always seemed more interested in returning to Houston and getting on with his life of making money. And I was not about to complain about that; in a few months he would be paying me a hefty sum for the work I was doing for the opening of his new corporate headquarters.
Our nerves were so raw when we returned from New York that none of us knew what to do or how to try to return to a normal life. Cornelia made sure that the group was not being splintered by the turmoil that we had endured. She spent long periods of time with Nina, helping her deal with the loss of her lover and reassuring her that the future would indeed come. She had also visited Robb to reassure him that he was not to blame. He was feeling terribly guilty that he had told Carole so much about Daniel and me and our security measures. It was the information that she had picked up that made her brother's attack on us so effective. She even managed to forge an alliance with Tony and Jack after berating them for their lifestyles and helping them see what they were doing to people by their behavior. They both apologized to us and seemed to be trying to be better people.
Alan Parker had returned briefly to Dallas to request a transfer and to pack his stuff. He and Mikey had found a quaint little apartment near the Fortress and were quickly making it into the home they envisioned. Each of us felt their love almost as a tangible thing. It was so obvious by watching them how much they meant to each other. I guess that our meddling had paid off.
Daniel's strength became apparent to the entire group during the days following our attack. I was aware of the underlying strength of his personality; he shouldered the responsibility of caring for me unlike anyone ever had. He seemed to be the least affected and with Cornelia had helped each of us settle back into our routines. The bullet had shattered his chin, but he rebounded quickly from the surgery that wired his jaw back together. Although we had been in adjoining operating rooms, he had forced to nurses to let him get up after a brief recovery so he could be in my room when I returned from surgery. The bones in my left shoulder were so damaged that the doctors had to use small metal plates and screws to repair the wound. Hours later, when I could again open my eyes, the first thing I saw was Daniel's head laying on the bed beside me. He was asleep in the chair, holding my hand.
The first couple of weeks we were back Daniel and I spent lying around trying to recuperate. His jaw had to stay wired for several weeks so we communicated by touch and an occasional note. We spent countless hours curled up on the sofa together, me talking to him and him answering in our brand of sign language. My shoulder throbbed every time I moved and even with the pain medication I could seldom get comfortable. Needless to say our lovemaking was much more tentative and gentle but in so many ways we became closer and learned more about each other's needs. I was content at night to have him curled up to my good side, his head tucked into the crook of my shoulder, and that wonderful scent of my Daniel around me.
Physical therapy quickly became the bane of my existence. The therapist was trying to help me regain movement and strength on my left side but I was fighting all the way. I knew on an intellectual level that only through the hard work would I recover; it did not make it any easier to bear the pain. I was doing the exercises and was physically stronger but I knew that I was slowly losing the battle with my emotions. I was angrier that I could ever remember, and at nothing in particular. I was growing more and more distant from the people that I loved. It was so painful to look at them and realize that I had been partially responsible for their suffering.
I was lapsing back into the shell that Daniel had so easily broken through when we met. I spent several nights in an insomniac daze, madly slopping paint onto canvas. I cannot call it painting since I had no conscious control over what was happening. It was as if my paintbrush was working independently of my mind. Several times Daniel had tried to lure me back to bed, to the rest that my body so needed, but I was driven to paint like never before. He and Cornelia would take turns making sure that I was never alone for long. They both felt that something was terribly wrong but could not find a way to convince me to seek help. We finally agreed on a truce, I would paint and they would take care of me. My left shoulder was immobilized, but I still managed to aggravate it during these all night sessions. Daniel would retrieve me when I had totally exhausted myself, trundling me to the sofa in the studio and wrapping us in a blanket for a few hours of rest.
Or at least until my nightmares would start for the day. I could usually sleep for three to four hours before images of people chasing us, images of blood would overpower my sleep. It was only in Daniel's strong arms that the endless replaying of the shooting would stop for a while. Eric only managed to fire one shot at us, but it had been incredibly effective on its course. Every time I closed my eyes to sleep a slow motion version of the bullet's trajectory would play out in my mind. I would see Daniel's head thrown to the left by the impact, his blood splattering across my suit. The searing pain in my shoulder as it tore through the muscle and bone. The grimace that was on Barry's face as he tried to push us on towards the car before he fell to the sidewalk. I knew that I was slowly driving myself crazy from the guilt that I could not shake off.
"Happy birthday dear Daniel, happy birthday to you." The gang finished the traditional song.
"Thanks guys." Daniel blushed then turned to blowing out the twenty-five candles on his cake. "Thank you all so much for the party, and for your friendship." He leaned back into my embrace. "And thank you most of all, Paul. I love you so much." His new moustache and goatee twitched under his wide smile. He had been so worried when he decided to grow facial hair that I would not like it, boy was he ever wrong. It was primarily to cover the scars from his surgery, but it made him even more attractive and added to his bear cub look.
"I love you too, baby. Now, open those presents." I pushed him towards the gift-laden sideboard.
"Paul, I need to talk to you." Nina pulled me away from the gathering. "You've got to snap out of this funk you're in. Everybody is worried about you."
"Nina, I know. I just can't seem to let it go. Those horrible nightmares are driving me crazy." I leaned into her shoulder. "I don't know what to do anymore."
"Well, we've got a little surprise for you. We feel you need to get out of town for a while. Get away from everything. Call it a working vacation." She laid out the plans for me. "Cornelia is moving you to Houston for a few weeks. You and Dan will stay with her until you feel better. She has arranged space for you to paint and a study area for Dan to write. And like she said this morning, she ain't taking 'no' for an answer." She giggled.
"But, what about you and...?" I asked.
"Paul, I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself and Robb and Mikey, too. You need to get better and get back to some productive work. Those canvases that you have been working on are wonderful; they've taken you into an entirely new direction. But you need some time to focus and work on the Garland commission."
"I know, Nina. The opening is less than a year away. I don't want to disappoint anybody. Does Daniel know about this?" I asked.
"Who do you think cooked up this idea? He and Cornelia have been working for the past few days trying to get it all arranged. You're going! Got it?" she questioned.
"Yes, ma'am. I understand. But, what about the house?"
"Paul, the contractors know what they're doing. You've already made all the initial decisions. Everything else can be handled over the phone or you can fly back in if they need you to be on site."
Amy had located a contractor that we felt could handle the rebuilding of the cottage on Monroe Drive. He and his crew were familiar with the architectural style of the neighborhood and had done several renovations nearby. Daniel, Amy and I had met with them several times to talk about the drawings. We had decided to eliminate a few of the walls of the old home and open up the space even more than when I had redone it a few years ago. We both wanted a pool in the large back portion of the lot, something we could play in. The demolition of the burned-out shell had already been done. We had salvaged a few architectural details that were not completely destroyed, a few windows and a few doors. I wanted them included in the new structure.
Bob and his crew thought they could be done and have us back in Ansley Park by Thanksgiving, Christmas at the latest. As much as the Fortress had become a home for us, I knew Daniel and I would not be truly home until we were back in our neighborhood. I had never celebrated a Christmas in that house; I never had anybody to celebrate with. That would change this year.
"Daddy Bear, dinner's ready. Come on, get out of the pool!" Daniel called from the balcony.
"Coming, baby." I yelled back.
The last two weeks had been the laziest of my life. Daniel and I had settled into the unused wing of the Garland mansion outside of Houston. Cornelia had indeed found us space. The large sitting room of the wing had been cleared of furniture and my easels and worktables had been shipped in. A cozy adjoining room had been equipped with Daniel's computer and his books. There was nothing urgent that had to be done; and best of all--no one was trying to hurt us.
We quickly fell into a "vacation" routine. Each morning we would awaken happy to be in each other's arms and plan what we would do for the day. Most mornings we would spend about an hour before we got out of bed expressing our ever-growing love. It was in those hot Houston mornings that we would explore our bodies, each trying to give as much pleasure as possible to our partner. Later, after our obligatory shower together we would dress and then go exploring through the house eventually ending up in the breakfast room off the kitchen. Cornelia and her ever present cup of coffee would be somewhere nearby so she would join us for breakfast. She was completely unconcerned that I had done nothing for the commission since arriving. She felt that when I was ready, I would paint. Healing was the most important item on her agenda.
I began swimming laps after breakfast. The physical therapist thought it would be the best way to exercise my mending shoulder without causing too much pain. The first few times I tried to swim Daniel ended up in the pool with me, more to make sure I did not drown. After a few days I could swim the laps unassisted so he would bring his laptop and my sketchbooks out and sit on a chaise by the pool and work while I exercised. So far he had not let me read anything that he had written, but promised me that when the outline was finished he wanted my opinion. It was reward enough for the grueling regime to see the love of my life enjoying himself. He had changed my life so profoundly in four short months. I knew we were meant to be together and only regretted it had taken so long for us to meet.
After my twenty laps I would towel off and join him in lounging around the pool. I had painted nothing since those hellacious nights in Atlanta, but was steadily filling pages of the large sketchbooks. I knew that the images of the past would become less vivid but would never leave my life. The direction of my sketches turned back from the brink of insanity and began to return to my more figurative style. Glimpses of Texas began to appear on the pages, colored by the trips we took, the people we met. Images fueled by my love for Daniel and his love for me swirled around everything I drew. Out of this mixture ideas began to form for Cornelia's work.
We tried to get away from the house at least once a day to see the sights of the city and countryside. Cornelia had introduced us to several of her friends and we had been to barbeques at a few of the nearby ranches. The Garlands seemed to know or be affiliated with everyone in the area, the elderly Mexican lady that sold vegetables from the back of her pickup truck, the out of work Russian expatriate history professor, the richest oilmen. She knew the stories of their lives and truly cared that everyone was doing well. It was through her that we began to learn about life in the south of Texas.
The fact that our faces were known and that we had been splashed across televisions sets around the world never was brought up. A few people asked how we were doing, a few made crude comments, but mostly nobody took any real notice of us. It was nice to slip back into the anonymity that had been taken away from us. We could not walk down the street in Atlanta without being approached, but I guess due to the pace of life in Houston, we were less important to the average person. We appreciated the distance.
The fog was slowly lifting from our lives. I felt stronger and more invigorated than I had in several years: the injury was becoming a memory and the nightmares had disappeared. Daniel was making amazing progress in his novel, churning out page after page. I loved watching him hunched over the computer deep in concentration.
We visited the building site for Garland International several times since I felt it would help to see that space where the canvases would hang. The sprawling complex was much larger than the drawings led me to believe. The basic structure was nearing completion; the glass and stone had been installed on the outside, and the interiors and landscaping would be completed in time for the April opening. I had some major work ahead of me and realized that it was time to start.
"Paul, are you gonna work tonight?" Daniel asked, walking up behind me. I was loosely drawing on the massive canvas in front of me, charcoal smudges all over my hands and face. Sliding his arms around me, he kissed me behind the ear then began to nibble on my earlobe.
"Probably, why?" I leaned back into his embrace, knowing full well where this conversation was heading.
"Take me to bed." He whispered.
"I might could arrange that." I teased, reaching to the worktable for a towel. "Need some loving Baby Bear?"
"Oh, yeah, Daddy Bear. Now please." He urged, rubbing his erect cock against my thigh.
He was almost frantic by the time we reached our bedroom. I was not sure what triggered his lust but I wanted to give him the pleasure he sought. I was trying to take it slow and easy, Daniel had other ideas. He almost tore his clothes off trying to get us undressed. His mouth was devouring me, trying to suck my tongue out of my head.
"Paul, I love you so much. Please hurry up. I need you now!" he pleaded. He threw himself on the bed and rolled onto his back. He grabbed his legs behind the knees and pulled them back, exposing his rosebud to me. I grabbed the lube from the bedside table and joined him in bed. I lay between his legs and began to make love to that wonderful butt he laid open for me. My tongue found its place in his crack and began to tease his pucker, slowly easing into my boy. Daniel's hands urgently grabbed my head and tried to pull me up inside his body.
"Daddy Bear, I need your cock now." He ordered.
"Okay, baby. Here it comes." I answered, squirting lube on my painfully erect shaft. After so many weeks of gentle lovemaking this sudden turn to more aggressive sex was a welcomed change of pace. Daniel's body was shaking and he was moaning, begging me to fuck him. My cock found its place and I started slowly easing into him, trying not to hurt him. He dropped his legs on my shoulders and reached back to grab my buns, pulling me into him. I obliged him and slammed the entire nine inches into him in one stroke.
"Oh yeah, Paul. God, fuck me hard." He pushed his body back against my cock.
I quickly established a rhythm that he seemed happy with and started pulling almost all the way out and then slamming back, bottoming out. After probably ten minutes of this pace I could tell from his face that he was exactly where he wanted to be and that nothing else in the world mattered at that moment. Tears began to flow from his eyes and I sensed a change in his attitude and reached down to pull him up onto my lap. He eased his legs from my shoulders to around my waist and wrapped his arms around my neck. We leaned together and kissed.
"Are you okay, baby?" I asked, slowly stroking up into him.
"Paul, I don't know what that was all about. I just really needed to feel how much you loved me. I know it was crazy..." he tried to explain, choking back the sobs.
"Baby, like I told you before, whatever you need, just tell me. You obviously needed that and I am always happy to oblige. Now that you're sitting in my lap, you take the lead, set the pace."
He rode my dick, stroking his hard cock against my belly fur at a much more relaxed rate. We had passed whatever frenzy he initiated and were more settled into making love. Neither of us was in a hurry to reach orgasm, each happy to be with the one we loved. We moved as a unit, changing positions and locations several times. I picked him up, cradled his bottom in my hands and walked us to the bathroom. With one armed still wrapped around my neck, he reached in to turn on the shower. When the water had warmed up to the right temperature, I stepped into the stall and leaned him against the wall. We were lost in each other, totally oblivious to the rest of the world. Our mouths and tongues were dueling, bringing us closer to that point of no return. Three more full-length strokes and I started to spray Daniel's insides with my cum. That triggered him and he humped against my belly then convulsed out his spunk on my chest. I slid us down to the shower floor while we were trying to regain our breath.
"We'd better get out of here before the water gets cold." He mumbled into my chest hair. We stood up, quickly rinsed and dragged ourselves out of the shower. We were both exhausted, ready to turn in for the night.
Cuddled together in the bed, Daniel's head on my now healed, left shoulder we kissed and caressed each other.
"I'm so glad to be back on the correct side." He muttered, sleep thick in his voice.
"Me too, baby. I love you."
"Hmm, I love you too."
Daniel's breathing evened out and he was asleep, safe in my arms. I lay there, wrapped around my lover, silently thanking God, the universe or whoever had brought us together for the gift, then eased into sleep.
Autumn in Houston that year was unique, totally unlike anything I had ever experienced. The first signs of the impending changes in Atlanta were the slight blush of color marking just the tops of the tallest trees. There did not have to be much change in the daytime temperatures, only a slight decrease in the nighttime heat and slowly the end of summer was upon us.
I am not sure if it was due to the drought the south had endured for the past few years or if it is typical, but October in Houston opened with searing heat and blowing winds. There was so much sand in the air that we joked that the dust bowl days were returning. Going outside was almost impossible unless you were willing to have the skin scrubbed off your body by the winds. Our routine quickly changed; we could no longer go swimming or spend lazy days by the pool. It was only comfortable late at night when everything calmed down.
It was just as well; we were so busy that we almost did not notice. I was totally immersed in painting, Daniel in his writing. The large canvases were progressing nicely and the smaller ones all had been sketched out, now awaiting their colors. Daniel had finished his outline and was churning out chapters at an amazing rate. Cornelia had been markedly absent from the studio area of the house, not wanting to intrude on the process.
At Daniel's insistence we had established a schedule that allowed us to have two blocks of several hours of work separated by breaks for food. We would begin about nine each day, work until one, take a break for an hour lunch then delve back into our work. Usually we finished up about five or six o'clock. Some evenings we would return for a few more hours, but most nights we took time off to be with each other.
Never in my career had I painted by a schedule. Gone were the mad midnight frenzies where I would work myself into exhaustion. The only fight we had was about my stubbornness to try. I argued that the schedule would force me to be more mechanical and less creative. Daniel somehow knew that I needed the structure; that it would make me more efficient. Amazingly I found that the schedule did not hinder anything. The initial sketches that I had done by the pool now only had to be rendered in paint; the creative work was already done.
Daniel arranged his study so that we could see each other and talk back and forth if we needed to, but still be in our own spaces. Knowing that he was near me, and safe allowed me to free my mind to the process. At this rate I would easily be finished by deadline. I had something special in mind for the Garlands and their hospitality and would need some time to get that project ready before the opening of the new building. The construction manager, interior designers and I had met to discuss my idea. They agreed to my plans and were keeping quiet, helping me keep the secret.
In mid-October I was in the studio talking on the phone with Amy about the progress on the house. We would indeed be back at home by the first of December with plenty of time to settle in before Christmas. I did not want us to ever return to the Fortress and conned Amy into finding a decorator to take care of finishing the interiors and getting our stuffed moved. The memories of our hiding behind those secured walls had faded and I did not want Daniel or me to face them again.
"Paul, Paul! Where are you? You've got to read this!" he yelled as he rushed into the room. He was jumping up and down clutching a sheet of paper.
"What is it baby?" I tried to grab the sheet from him. "Here, talk to Amy." I handed him the phone and took the paper.
"Hey, Amy. Yeah, I'm pumped. I can't believe that they want it."
The email was from a publisher based in New York. They were excited about the chapters that he had sent them and wanted him to meet with an editor immediately.
"I knew it!" I screamed. "I knew you could do it." I reached to take the phone from him. "Amy, I'll talk to you later. Bye." I threw the phone at the sofa and grabbed Daniel, swinging him around in my arms.
"Baby, I knew you had it in you." I kissed him as I set his feet back on the floor.
"We've got to go to New York to meet with them."
"Daniel, it's you they want to meet, not me." I explained. I noticed the address on the email but could not place it.
"Daddy Bear, if you think I'm going without you, you're crazy." He laughed, hugging me even harder.
Cornelia came scurrying into the room to see what all the ruckus was about. I handed her the paper and continued to kiss and caress my boy. I knew he was talented and now it looks like the world was going to find out for itself. I never expected it to happen this quickly, but I was so very, very pleased. Daniel would have his own limelight now and not have to share mine; we would be on a more equal footing in his eyes. After she kissed and hugged us both Cornelia rushed from the room calling for champagne and a celebration.
We flew in early Monday morning and were met by a representative from the publishing house. I assumed that they would send a secretary or office worker and was surprised that the petite brunette that greeted us was the editor they assigned to work with Daniel. Marcie explained that everyone who had read the chapters felt he was headed for blockbuster sales. When we were seated comfortably in the car and headed towards Manhattan she explained more about the process that would get the manuscript ready for publication. She asked several questions about how he came to create the work and its motivation and about how much longer he needed to complete the final chapters. They were engaged in an animated discussion for most of the trip into the city.
This was Daniel's game, his time to shine, so I kept quiet and let him direct the show. I was holding his hand under the overcoat that lay across my lap and gazing out the windows, thinking about the last time we had been here. I was so confused by what I felt and tried to not let myself get caught up in the past. Knowing where we were going, I was trying to prepare myself for what was to come.
Daniel was so wound up listening to Marcie's description that I was surprised that he managed not to jump in my lap. I knew he was trying to make a good impression but the book was doing that for him. When he got excited about something he almost always felt the need to be in my arms, to share his enthusiasm with me, so I draped my arm around his shoulders and pulled him to my side.
"So, the rumors are true. You are together." Marcie stated.
"Yep, we are. Is that a problem?" I asked.
"No, not at all. We all have seen the news reports about what happened, but they never actually said that you two were lovers." She tried to explain, smiling. "And after reading the manuscript it makes sense."
"Well, a lot of our lives are in that book. We are not the major characters but I can only write about what I know." Daniel added.
"Well, we're here." She said as the car came to a halt in front of the building.
"Marcie, can you give us a minute?" I asked.
"Sure, whenever you are ready." She said as she exited the car.
"Daniel, baby, I love you more than anything in the world." I pulled him into a hug.
"Paul, I know. I love you too. What's all this about?" He looked at me quizzically.
I moved towards the door, Marcie pulled it open and I climbed out. I reached back to take Daniel's hand, pulling him from the car.
"Oh, my god!" He moaned. I could see the despair in his eyes as he reached to hug me.
"I know baby. Everything will be alright." I muttered, my voice shaky, my knees trembling. I tried to control myself but felt the sobs starting deep in my chest.
He pulled back from me, tears streaming down his face.
"Shh, Paul. We'll be fine." He pulled me back into his arms. We stood on the sidewalk, sniffling and trying to reassure each other of that.
"Guys, what's wrong. What's the matter?" Marcie asked, alarmed.
Daniel and I brought our arms up at the same time and pointed to the building across the street, The Arthur H. Avery Foundation.
"Paul, Dan, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize."
TO BE CONTINUED, Chapter 4 coming soon. Thanks again guys for all the responses.