JOHN DARLING'S COMA
CHAPTER SIX
This morning's stressful experience with Nurse Mayfair forced Andy to quit his job. That's actually beneficial because it frees Andy to join John when he goes home, where Dr. Hinds feels John has a better chance of recovering his memory. Depending on John's progress, the trip to Wyoming could happen as early as a week or two from now.
Andy isn't unemployed for long because John jumped in and hired him to be his full-time private nurse. It was totally John's idea, proving he isn't as clueless as his amnesia sometimes makes him appear.
At the moment, they're on the bed in the hotel suite, fully clothed, hugging, and feeling good. John slides down the mattress to do oral sex for his idol. Sounding exactly like Andy, John asks, "Should I pull your pants all the way off, Andy?"
Exhaling noisily, Andy controls his frustration that John still needs to ask questions like that. Managing to sound pleasant, he says, "Well, why don't we get completely naked? That way, we can do our sexual therapy more effectively, and you'll likely recover memories by the hundreds."
They snicker at that longshot possibility, feeling a little high at how well things worked out today. A bad situation with Nurse Mayfair ended well, so why not be high on life?
As John pulls Andy's pants off, Andy says, "We joke about sex being therapy, but it could actually help your amnesia situation. I mean, while sucking my dick, try remembering who you did this with at Duke. I'm guessing it was probably your roommate, so try to picture his face or compare my dick with his. Think about stuff like that as you're enjoying our sex because I'm sure you enjoyed doing it with your mystery college sex buddy."
John picks up Andy's limp six-inch penis, saying, "I don't think I could enjoy anything as much as I enjoy sex with you. Anyway, I've already looked at pictures of my roommate, who looks a little bit hot, by the way, but his pic didn't bring back a single memory. It was as if I was looking at a picture of someone I'd never seen before."
With his pants and underpants off now, Andy plays with his dick, muttering, "That's so strange. Amnesia is a bitch. What's your roommate's name?"
Sliding off the end of the bed, John says, "Um, they tell me it's Brian O'Neal." He pulls his pants off and adds, "Brian looks kinda short, cool, but intimidating, too."
"Oh yeah? How does a person look intimidating in a photo?"
Shrugging, John mumbles, "I don't know. You're right, though; I should try remembering something. The problem is I get so aroused having sex with you; you're all I can think about. I've said it fifty times, but it's true; you're so important to me that nothing else matters very much."
"Well, try harder to make your past life matter because it does matter!"
Calming down somewhat, he goes on, "Um, of course, I'm flattered you like me, but I want you to remember your past life. Considering how cute and handsome you are, I'm prepared for there to be a boyfriend, and I promise not to complicate your life with him, whoever it turns out to be. So, don't leave it to amnesia to resolve itself because who knows how long that might take?"
John nods, mumbling, "Okay, I'll try remembering, um, something..."
Yeah, John seems to agree with Andy, but he's also apprehensive about remembering his past life because things in his real life could be wrong in many ways. In other words, he's so happy with Andy that it's hard to imagine a past life better than his present one. Plus, he'd inherited a lot of money, so Andy and he could easily and comfortably start their new lives together and forget about the first almost twenty-two years of John Darling's life.
That is a very enticing thought for John, although there's also a niggling curiosity factor to consider. Now that John has had three or four recovered memories, it's become almost like a game of remembering more. He's on the fence... remember or don't remember. There's something to be said for both outcomes.
For now, though, John is anxious to have oral sex therapy with his private nurse. They both talk tongue-in-cheek about sex being therapy while they're both hoping there's some truth to that.
John's and Andy's pants and underpants are piled on the floor at the foot of the bed beside where John's standing. After they take their shirts off, John pulls off Andy's socks and grins at him. Andy grins back, asking, "What?"
Maintaining eye contact, John slowly leans over and licks Andy's right foot, then his left. He does whole tongue licks from the heels up the foot to the back of Andy's toes on both feet.
Andy's gasping and shuttering as his dick tightens up. John's eyes are at the top of their sockets, watching Andy's reaction when he closes his mouth on Andy's toes and sucks them. Andy shakes and groans, then lifts his ass off the mattress, a hand on either side of him, his face scrunched up, his dick hard as he's muttering, "Oh my God, ummm..."
John's saliva is drooling all over Andy's toes on his right foot and then his left as Andy gets his fist around his hard cock, his body stiff as a board, as he strokes his six-inch throbbing boner.
John, still grinning like mad, does a last long lick up the sole of And's foot, then crawls up onto the bed and slides up between Andy's legs. He takes Andy's hard penis from his fingers, and with a slight taste of foot in his mouth, John sucks on the head of Andy's cock, getting it harder than a wooden dildo.
Andy grunts, then hump his hips off the mattress, and John goes down on Andy's cock, the head plugging into his throat once, twice, three times before John gets into a smooth rhythm, his lips covering his teeth, he's bobbing tightly up and down on Andy's hard pole of a dick. Slippery with saliva, John's mouth going up and down, up and down with pleasure sensations dancing and sparkling from Andy's bone-hard penis, the head swollen and throbbing as it squeezes in and out of John's esophagus.
The friction on Andy's boner creates a dizzying series of pleasure sensations until Andy squeals, shooting a mouthful of cum that John swishes around with his tongue before swallowing. He swallows, but some of the creamy, sticky cum drools out the sides of his lips.
Shivering with sexual pleasure, Andy moans, "Oh, umm... that was insane..."
John's cock is a five-inch steel spike by now. He's incredibly aroused by the force Andy fired off his climax. That was so fucking sexy it left John with an achingly hard boner that he squeezed, mumbling in a deep lisp, "Please, suck me off, Andy..."
Andy's body is still twitching from the pleasure of that climax. "Yeah, c'mon Darling." John walks on his hand and knee, a hand and knee on either side of Andy, who's lying flat on the bed. John stops when his penis, in its petrified state, hangs over Andy's mouth. Lowering his hips, John's boner drops into Andy's welcoming, warm, wet mouth... tongue and lips surrounding and sucking on three inches of John's hard sex organ, the head pulsing as John scrunches his face, moaning, "Ahh, oooh, fuck... yeah, suck my dick..."
Oh God, it feels so good that John's hips, seemingly on their own, slowly hump up and down, the head of his boner going lower each time until the head is diving into Andy's throat. Not for long, though. John got so incredibly turned on sucking Andy off he was right on the edge of blowing his load from the start. After only forty-five seconds of dick-sucking ecstasy, he made an embarrassingly loud screechy sound and blew his load down Andy's throat. John's hips humping spastically for ten seconds, then he falls onto his stomach beside Andy, who's still on his back.
Neither of them says anything as they concentrate on the lingering aftereffects of their intense climaxes. To John, getting his dick sucked seemed beautiful but alien, too. It was as if this was his first time getting blown. Finally, Andy goes up on an elbow, saying, "I'll bet you remembered something during that sex therapy."
John can't be sure if it's a real or made-up memory that he'd never had his dicked sucked before. It would be embarrassing that no one ever agreed to suck his dick. Could that be true? He wasn't going to mention that to Andy. Instead, ha-ha, he joined Andy laughing at their pretend idea that sex between them was merely for therapeutic reasons. John says, "That was the sickest extemporaneous, um, therapy, plus my dick feels good!"
Ha-ha. Andy sits up, pats John's ass, and says, "It was so cool that you licked my feet, but me doing that to you is what I can hardly wait to do. Licking your feet, oh man... I'll probably blow my load in two seconds."
"Heh-heh, if you blow your load that fast, I probably won't be able to remember anything."
Andy chuckles, then says, "Yeah, hah ha. Seriously, though, I don't think I've ever felt anything as hot as that climax. You set me up with that foot play, and, holy shit, I didn't expect you to tantalize my foot fetish like that; it was awesome! And here I was expecting you'd only suck a boner on me." He holds up a condom packet, "I took this out of my pants as you pulled them down."
Smiling and sighing, John says, "Yeah, that's all I thought I was going to do, too. Looking at you, seeing how electric you got when I licked your foot... it got out of control and off the rails, a runaway train from then on."
Nodding, murmuring, "Uh-huh," Andy reaches down to pull the covers over them both, and he and John snuggle together, their arms going around one another. "You're still going to fuck me, though, right Andy?"
Snickering, Andy murmurs, "Absolutely, Darling. How else are you going to remember anything?"
As John snuggles tighter against Andy's more petite body, he says, "When I finally remember my past life, I'll bet it's not as good as this one. And knowing you're coming with me to my home town gives me this safe and comfortable feeling. I can't begin to explain how much better I feel about everything now than twenty-four hours ago."
Andy waits a minute, then says, "Holy shit! You're not crying. Wow, expressing sentiments like you did would normally cause tears."
John blinks his eyes, muttering, "I do feel like crying, sort of... Yeah, that's weird that I'm not shedding a tear, but I'm glad I'm not. Maybe I'm finally getting better."
They whisper about this morning's activities with Nurse Mayfair, emboldened that they appear to have come out on top of the nurse's bullshit, so they feel good about themselves. John quietly says, "It's funny how things turn out sometimes. That aggressive, know-it-all, pushy nurse did us a favor without knowing it."
Andy chuckles, "She'd be pissed off if she knew she helped us grow even closer. Oh, man, she despised me, though, huh?"
Even though Andy knew it wasn't the best idea for John to be copying his lisping and doing his limp wrist and swishy body movements, he couldn't help but feel proud that John wanted to be just like him. No one had ever thought as highly of him as John does, never mind anyone copying everything he does. Some people disliked or mocked Andy behind his back, but most thought he was a nice queer guy. His two roommates were childhood friends, and they liked him. They thought Andy was kooky but a harmless, kind of a funny guy.
Being idolized by John, though, is a much different experience, and it's becoming addictive.
Listening to John talking about how he remains a little afraid but still a little curious about his past was like Andy hearing himself talk, and when John moved his shoulder and head a certain way, Andy felt proud again and rubbed John's head as if he were a little boy who did good. It's stupid to be proud of a negative, but Andy was proud just the same.
John drawing attention to his gayness by exaggeratingly lisping and acting overly feminine; doing every gay affectation like Andy won't help John get through life any more than it helps Andy. Those gay affectations happen naturally for Andy, but John is teaching himself how to do them. Thinking about this, Andy again knows he should get John to stop copying him, but he can't make himself do it.
"Would that be okay with you, Andy?"
"Huh? What? I'm sorry, Darling, my mind drifted away. What was it you asked?"
Gently rubbing the side of his face against Andy's, John murmurs, "That's okay. I love being with you like this. You feel so good, Andy. Um, I asked if you'd be okay with coming to Wyoming with me as soon as next week. That's how soon the doctor feels I could be ready to go."
Andy says, "Hell, I'm ready to go tomorrow or this afternoon. I'd do anything to help you come out of your amnesia."
John's leg moves in between Andy's legs as his body slides on top of Andy while murmuring in perfect Andy-lisp, "I love you so much, Andy. Please fuck me. Oh God, Andy, I get so hot for you it almost hurts..."
Rubbing his crotch against Andy's quickly gets both their dicks hard. Andy's still holding the condom packet, so he rips it open, and his hand goes between their bellies. He rolls the condom on his hard dick, wiping lube off his fingers on the sheet, "Let's do it, Darling! Get on your stomach, pushing your ass up."
Doing that, John murmurs, "Oh, Gawd, I can hardly wait! Fuck me, Andy..."
Andy gets aroused by how aroused John becomes when he's about to be fucked. It makes Andy feel like the hottest stud in town. He gets on his knees behind John, his boner so swollen and hard it doesn't even bounce a little. John pushes his asshole up, trembling with anticipation, so Andy teases him by keeping him waiting. Then, he slaps John's ass, takes a deep breath, and guides the head of his hard boner to John's asshole, then plugs it in, both guys moaning, "Oooooh, umm... oooh fuck..."
Andy's trembling now, too, as he's slowly pushing his six hard inches of cock inside John's ass. John moans, "Oooh, Andy... mmm, it feels good..."
When his groin is firmly against John's buttocks and all six inches of his boner disappear inside John's body, Andy humps against firm butt cheeks a few times. He's feeling dominant... feeling like a bad-ass dominant top, and he slaps John's ass again, then again. Then, pulling his boner back until only the swollen head is still in John's rectum, Andy waits a few seconds, making John whimper, "Ah, ah, umm, umm..." before he slaps John's ass again, then pushes his iron cock back inside, then immediately pulls it back. John moans, "Oooh, ummm, ah, ah, ooh..."
Soon, the thrusting is going smoothly, Andy's groin slapping against John's ass, "Slap, slap, slap," as John moans, "Ah! Ah! Ah, um, um, aah..."
Because of their oral sex climaxes a little while ago, the guys can last for almost a juicy, delicious ten minutes before John, sounding desperate, lisps, as if he's surprised, "Ahh, I'm gonna cum, Andy! Ah, ah ah..." A second later, he makes a sissy-sounding squeal, hopping on the bed, shooting a tiny cum shot onto the sheet... splat!
Andy keeps thrusting as only whimpering weak moans are coming from John's docile, limp body. And's holding John's hips tightly as he thrusts his boner, all six inches back and forth in John's rectum, until he almost passes out when blowing out a small cum shot climax in the condom. It's a small load but feels like a pint of cum shooting out his steel penis. John's wimpy moans fade out as the aftereffects from his climax fade out.
After breathing heavily, Andy pulls his cock out and rolls onto his side. "Oh man, Darling, that was awesome..." He takes off the condom and holds it over the side of the bed, squeezing his dick with his other hand, then strokes it and sighs contentedly. After taking a few more deep breaths, Andy murmurs, "You okay, Darling? That was great, wasn't it?"
John has his now soft penis in his fist as he murmurs, sounding precisely like Andy, "It was better than great, Andy." He rolls up on his side and looks down at Andy. His hand lightly rubbing Andy's cheek, he quietly lisps, "I never knew I could respect and love anybody as much as I do you," and tears roll down his cheek, "You're so beautiful, Andy."
With the power of love roaring silently in his ears, Andy is teetering on the brink of being overwhelmed by John's adoration, and it's gotten so that Andy pretty much believes he deserves all of it. Believing he is as special as John thinks he is. John's hero worship of Andy is not an especially good development as far as keeping it real for John so that he can remember his past life. Nevertheless, Andy thinks, 'Goddammit, it's about time someone appreciates me properly!'
He flicks his fingers, indicating John needs to come to him. John nods eagerly and scrambles over into Andy's arms. Andy's fingers ruffle through John's longish hair on the back of his head as he lisps, "I want you to calm down right now. No more tears, Johnny! I'm just now understanding that you need me to be firmer with you."
John looks down and shrugs, muttering, "Well, I depend on you. You're my idol."
Andy, who never would have thought this a month ago, now accepts his place as someone worthy of being idolized. He cups John's chin, pulling John's head up so he's looking him in the eyes, "Listen up, Darling, I'll need to take over everything. Until you conquer your amnesia, you'll be doing what I say. You won't need to think about anything else; you're only to try remembering your life before the accident."
John's body got stiff, his penis shivering. What just happened? He's not sure, but Andy saying you'll do everything my way seemed very familiar and gave him sexy chills of submissiveness. Andy acting dominant ignited John's subconscious memory of his dominant boyfriend, Brian O'Neal.
Lisping so profoundly, saliva drooling down John's chin, he meekly says, "Yes, Andy, I want to do whatever you say. Omigod, I love that idea so much."
Andy's hand rubs up the clean, dry, blond hair on the back of his head, the hair drifting between Andy's fingers as he thinks, 'He's right to idolize me because without me... he's doomed.'
Lisping but sounding authoritative at the same time, Andy says, "Johnny, listen to me! You've been out of your coma for two months, doctors and therapists working with you the entire time, and that's gotten you nowhere. I agree with Dr. Hinds that your best shot at remembering everything is at home, so we're going there early next week whether the doctors agree or not."
Nodding, snuggling against Andy as they lie on the mattress, John murmurs, "Whatever you say, Andy."
Andy's dick shimmered sexily, realizing how submissive John Darling was to him. And, Goddammit, it feels only right that John treats Andy with respect, acknowledging that Andy's superior to him. Sounding very confident, Andy tells John, "We're going to have lunch now. After that, you're getting a haircut because you had a good idea that makes sense... when we're at your house, you look as you did when you lived there."
John nods his head in agreement because that's what he wanted to do in the first place. Andy says the obvious, "People in Wyoming remember you with short hair. After you get your hair cut, you'll text that hypnosis doctor again. I'd want you to try hypnosis before we ship out of here on Tuesday. You'll say goodbye to your doctors Monday morning."
John was shaking his head, agreeing with each decision Andy was making for him. Lisping like mad, John says, "I'll do what you say, Andy. And, um, Omigod, I think you somehow reminded me of my roommate. I can't be positive, but you being, um, confidently bossy made me think my roommate is too."
"Wow, that's wicked interesting, Darling, but, ah, here's something off-topic I need to address. Look, I know you want to be like me... sound and act as I do... I get that you idolize me and whatnot. The thing is, though, I could barely understand what you just said because you're exaggerating my lisp. People in your hometown won't recognize you if you're lisping and acting swishy and obviously gay. You were not obviously gay went you left home, right?"
With his eyes filling with tears because his idol is being critical of him, John mumbles, "I don't think so, Andy, but I'm unsure."
Feeling more and more comfortable in his authoritative position and accepting John's subservient status, Andy remembers he's holding the cum-filled condom and says, "Stop your crying! We'll talk about your behavior later. For now, I want you to flush this condom. Wash up, and we'll have lunch in the hotel's cafe."
Responding immediately, John hops out of bed, taking the used condom from Andy's fingers. As he walks quickly to the bathroom, Andy nods his head, approving of his decision to take over. He thinks, 'I'll be Goddamned! This feels right. Why the hell have I been acting as if I'm inferior to John Darling? I'm not inferior to anyone, although I felt I was when doing sponge baths. I'm not inferior... where would he be without me?"
Andy's still in bed when, ten minutes later, John comes back into the bedroom, "I did what you told me, Andy. Should I get dressed now?"
Lazily getting out of bed, Andy nods, "Yes, get dressed and send that follow-up text to that hypnotist doctor."
Andy, with a brand-new sense of importance, walks cockily to the bathroom, confident he'll hear John lisps, "Yes, Andy," and he did hear it.
Later, in the hotel's cafe, John is as relaxed as he's been since coming out of his coma because Andy's taken responsibility for everything. He simply needs to do what he's told. It's like John's become Andy's obedient child.
"What should I get for lunch, Andy?"
That kind of question was driving Andy nuts before, but now he merely holds up his hand, saying, "Shh! Let me check the menu." That made John's dick scoot around in his pants.
This is as comfortable as Andy has ever felt in his life. His position of authority over John Darling feels perfect. Andy sees himself differently now. He feels it's his responsibility to be in charge of John. Closing the menu, Andy shrugs, muttering, "We'll get hamburgers and fries, Johnny." Then, frowning, he goes, "Hey! Sit up, please. Don't slouch!"
John sits up straight, "Sorry. I know I have shitty posture. That's what, um... hmm, someone used to get on me about my shitty posture all the time. Just now, I almost remembered who."
Sounding excited, Andy goes, "Awesome! This is working already. I'll make all the decisions for us, and you think about your life before the accident. It's a shame it took me this long to realize you need me to be strict with you. This feels more natural, doesn't it? I'm no doctor, so I'm only guessing, but you'll likely remember easier now that we've decided you simply need to do what you're told."
John grins and says, "Oh, shit. My dick scoots around in my underpants when I hear you being wicked confident like that. Seriously, be tough on me... it feels good... it feels familiar! Oh God, Andy, I've got a boner in my pants. I don't know what else to say except thank you."
"That's nice, Johnny, but dial it back a little. You're almost twenty-two, for fuck sake, not twelve. I'm sorry to sound mean, but I insist you need to start acting your age. That might help you remember, and people back home, um... Well, just act your age, that's all."
John sounds like he's slurping ice remnants from an empty glass through a straw, lisping, "Yes, Andy." Then, "Oh boy, you laid that corrective criticism on me, and I'm not crying. You should be a doctor 'cause you're doing more for me than they did."
Andy soaks up the accolades as they eat cheeseburgers and fries with sodas for lunch. While eating, Andy insists John repeats words without an exaggerated lisping sound. He pats John's hand, "It's okay that you try being like me, but don't overdo it. That's what I'm trying to teach you."
When finished eating, Andy says, "I'll handle the money from now on, Johnny. Give me your debit card."
Nodding as he's taking out his wallet, John gladly gives his debit card to Andy. "Good idea, Andy. You take care of this too, and thanks."
Andy asks, "What's the PIN?" John tells him. and Andy points at another card Andy's holding, "Is that a credit card?"
"Oh, yeah, it came when my attorney, Sara McCarty, opened a checking and savings account at the bank for me. There's $5000 in the checking account and $25,000 in savings, but that's only a drop in the bucket of my inheritance. So far, I've only used the debit card."
"I'll take charge of both cards. What's your password for the credit card?"
Handing Andy the credit card, he mutters, "Um, my password? Let me think. Oh yeah, it's 'My Password.'"
Andy says, "That is the worst password I've ever heard of. I'll change it to something no one can guess. And I'll use it after lunch too because we both need to shop for clothes before flying to your home town. Shopping for clothes sucks, but we're doing it anyway..."
The waitress comes over with the check, so Andy gives her John's debit card as if it's his own. She leaves, and he says, "In addition to new clothes, we need to hit an ATM machine so I can get some cash. I'll be the one paying for cab rides and whatever. You've got some cash, right?"
John says, "Yes, almost five hundred dollars."
"Good, I'll get the same. Listen, you'd better check with me before you buy anything. At least until you regain your memory, I'll keep track of our finances. Alright... now you're going to the hotel barbershop."
John makes a face, then mumbles, "Do I have to go to that barbershop, Andy? Both barbers are at least eighty years old."
The waitress returns, and Andy fills in a tip, then says, "C'mon, Johnny, do what you're told."
They walk out of the cafe with Andy taking hold of John's arm, guiding him to the sign indicating a barbershop and shoe-shining booth are downstairs. Going down the stairs, Andy says, "So what if they're eighty years old? This is convenient. Johnny. Everything will be a lot simpler if you'll just do what you're told, okay? When you're not suffering amnesia, then do whatever you want. Until then, we've agreed you'll do what I say."
Lifting his eyebrows, looking into John Darling's eyes, Andy asks, "Am I right?"
Nodding and muttering, "Sorry, yes, you're right, Andy."
Outside the barbershop's door. Andy asks, "Do you have any recollection of what you told barbers you wanted as your haircut back home?"
Shaking his head, John says, "No, and I don't trust these old farts."
"Don't be difficult! Tell the barber you want a short haircut and let him decide what that means since you don't recall. I'm going up to our bathroom to do number two, which I know is TMI, heh-heh, but that's where I'll be."
John mutters, "Um, you said to tell you before I spend money, so a haircut is twenty dollars here and..."
Andy looks sternly at John, then says, "Use your head, Darling. Of course, you need to pay the old guy." Then, "I'll meet you out that door," and he points to the door John went out his first night in the hotel. Andy hugs John reassuringly, then repeats his instructions, "Tell whichever one of the old barbers is awake that you want a short haircut and leave it at that. I'll see you in ten minutes or so outside that door."
Resigned to doing what he's told, John nods and lisps, "Yes, Andy."
Andy stands outside the barbershop, watching through the large picture window until John is sitting in a barber chair with a very old barber putting a cape around John. Only then does Andy go up to their room feeling he's now doing what's best for John Darling... and for Andy Salsbury, too.
In the suite, sitting on the toilet, Andy frowns, not sure if Darling said he'd inherited three million dollars... or was it two million dollars? He's pretty sure it was three, but does that include the house that John also inherited? Three million plus the house... he's almost sure that's it.
After a very successful shit, Andy washes his hands and then takes the complimentary ballpoint pen and a piece of complimentary paper tablet from the room's desk. Then, walking past the barbershop, he rolls his eyes, seeing John still in the chair, now with very short hair and the old barber still using clippers. Andy says out loud, "Holy shit, he looks like he's fourteen years old now!" and he chuckles. Outside, waiting for the barbered boy to join him, Andy finds it hard not to think of John as a young boy, although John is only three months younger than Andy.
Feeling good about himself, Andy glances across the street and... Oh, there's an ATM right there.
Crossing the street, he uses John's pathetic password to change the credit card password to 'Off to Wyoming to seek @#$.' Snickering, Andy writes down the new password and mumbles to himself, "Maybe I won't tell Johnny what the new password is." After withdrawing five hundred dollars and putting the money in his pocket, he mutters, "I deserve this."
He goes back across the street, and three minutes later, John comes out the door rubbing his hand on the back of his head, blushing. Andy says, "You look like a middle schooler but an extraordinarily beautiful middle schooler."
John says, "That motherfucker gave me a fucking burr haircut."
Putting his arm across John's shoulders, Andy lisps, "That is NOT a burr haircut. And I do not want to hear you cursing like that. Do you understand?"
John cringes, muttering, "I'm sorry."
Giving John's shoulders a hug, Andy lisps, "Anyway, that's a decent short haircut. It's long enough that the hair is combed over to the side with a part and a cute little pompadour." He jostles John's shoulders, lisping, "You look like an unbelievably cute boy from the nineteen fifties."
John pouts a little but then leans against Andy and murmurs, "Do you think I look okay? That's all I care about... what you think."
"Yep, I don't normally like short guys' haircuts, but on you, short hair looks great, Johnny! Yeah, normally, I would have preferred you did what you wanted to do and let your hair grow into an eventual ponytail like mine. That's a bad idea, however, because you need to lose your amnesia, and the best way to do that is to experience your life in Wyoming before the accident. After that, you can do what you like."
"I wanted to grow my hair until I have a ponytail like yours."
"Yeah, I know you did... that's what I just finished saying. Did you text that hypnotist doctor yet?"
He mutters, "Geez, no. I'll do it now," and he texts the doctor again but gets no reply. He puts his phone in his pocket and says, "I couldn't believe how much hair that old fucker cut off. It kept coming in gobs, running down the cape. I tried to tell him... not too short, but the other barber said this guy can't hear worth shit."
Andy laughs, then John laughs, and then their laughter gets crazy until they're laughing so hard they need to hold onto each other... laughing until they almost pass out. Finally, Andy hugs and kisses John. "Holy fuck, you look good, Johnny. We'll leave it at that. I don't want to hear any more of your bitching about the haircut."
"Yes, Andy. Ah, did you get money from that AMT?" and he points at the machine across the street.
"Uh-huh, five hundred dollars is in my pocket. I changed the password, but I'm not telling you what it is."
Frowning, John lisps, saying very seriously, "Ah, that doesn't entirely sound fair, ya know?"
Andy tries not to laugh but snickers, and soon they're laughing their nuts off again, holding onto one another. Sweaty from laughing so hard, John mutters, "Holy shit, what if we hear something that's actually funny? We'll laugh ourselves to death."
Taking a deep breath, smiling, Andy says, "I think we're both feeling relief that we're finally on the right track. I needed to take complete control, and now that I have, we both feel we got it right, so we're laughing with relief... laughing like crazy people."
Nodding, "Andy, um, are you really not going to tell me the new password."
Andy kisses John again and gives him the piece of paper with the new password. "Here, you keep it for us. And, you know Johnny, ah, I know you love me, but what you might not know is that we're talking about best friend love, not the romantic kind. That might come in time. For now, I'm definitely the boss, but the boss with your best interest being my number one concern."
They start walking as John asks, "Well, how in the hell was that old fuck barber in my best interest or concern or whatever?"
"Do you know another barbershop, Darling?"
John shakes his head, so Andy mutters, "I rest my case."
"Yeah, you're right again, Andy. I'm sorry for whining. What are we doing now?"
"We're going around to the front of the hotel and have that doorman get us a taxi to a mall so we can buy some new clothes. Clothes that we don't feel self-conscious wearing when we're at your home in Cheyenne, Wyoming."
John says, "I bought khaki pants, a shirt, and sneakers at the hotel men's shop. We need cowboy stuff, and they don't sell it here."
Andy says, "No, we don't need cowboy clothes. We're not cowboys. And I've seen your clothes, and I know mine, so I know we need an update. It'd be better if you don't argue with me, Johnny. Just do what I say, okay?"
John bumps Andy's side, muttering, "I'm sorry. I like you being the boss, so I'll do what I'm told."
Smiling at John, Andy puts his arm across John's shoulders and hugs him. "We're going to kick some ass together, Johnny. We'll kick the ass of your amnesia too."
Somehow, I don't think Andy is the dominant, take charge, boss kind of guy, but...
To be continued... donnymumford@outlook.com
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